from Dorothy Amid the Sao Paulo Riots, May 14th, 2006

(after Paradiso XXX)

“Now, I’d best
cease in this path
after her lust.”
Homes raze to poets' gaffed
torch tunes—steadfast
artist instincts
when we're lost.

Soon, we’ll think
what matters, ends:
In trumpeting
of shunt deaths or deafened
half-notes—penned low
expectations
when we go.


I saunter
shattered streets, rave
sotted wonder:
“When ought I die for love?”
drab storefronts flame
where once I’d give
alms to whom

now bleeds out—
no left wisdom
nor farewell chat
in his septic reply:
“Waste your own life,
putinha … die
your own death.”

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About the Author

Laurence Foshee is a Tulsa, Oklahoman with poetry and prose in Dragon Poet Review, The Drabble, The Tulsa Review, and a forthcoming Oklahoma anthology honoring the memory of The Greenwood District. When not reading and writing poetry, his work in patient transport during the entire first year of the Covid-19 pandemic has driven him to resume pre-health studies and pursue osteopathic medicine. He hopes to find commonalities in helping others within these disparate, higher callings.

Laurence Foshee
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