nicole reynolds - poems


portland oregon


gentrification and compost
a spring seldom shines
in portland
mostly rain for the roots
for weeks straight
it rains
and the hipsters
wear waterproof jackets
and goulashes and pale skin and
the moss covers most things here
the streets smell like
coffee, thai, cloves, american spirit
old books, youth
the cars move quietly along
dogs on leashes
cats in the windows
expired volkswagon buses
faded brown blue green
driving in circles
to work and back home
like bees to the flower
to the hive
skinny boys and girls with
tattoos of zippers or fish
or words
dying of drugs
living on drips of vigilante art
i saw a mountain
so white it wasn't there



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Copyright © 2009 Nicole Reynolds