From moria poetry

CONCENTRATE! (for Mary Harju)

laughter rises from (concentrate!) throats
   in depths, de profundis; cushions w/ sheets
w/ floral patterns & wind rushes in;

streets surreal w/ coffee-shops (open at eleven),
   so we go, get coffee, a brownie, sit
on curb / baltimore ave. near clark park—

we hit it— slides, grim metal
   fence, against park-lavatory walls
mary’s lips taste like sweet brandy—

here we are; (concentrate!)

© Adam Fieled 2010