shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Anita Olivia Koester

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Horizon with Origami Swans

A wild-haired girl, the classics ripped to shreds, a stretch
of beach riddled with sea shells, ancient promises,
a thankless horizon swallows up all the rotting ships
painted with masculine names, goodbye Odysseus, goodbye.
She folded up the centuries inside those origami swans
which were thirsty as afterschool children drawing
sidewalk rainbows out in the sun, while their mothers
touched what was still personal between their legs,
periodically they glanced out the window for danger,
thirsty with concentration, her swans ignorant
of what they were made of, still puffed up like sails
with that rumor that my rainbow will be so long
and glorious that at the end of it a little man
will have a pot of gold, forget that he's miserly,
that he enslaved us and raped us,
shot our heads full of holes.