By John Grey

 

Ah yes, vast symbol

after fifteen years,

success measured in the weight of two bricks,

enough largesse to stop a ream of paper

from blowing away.

With this forever in my sights,

I will always remember the incomprehensible,

a thank you as useless as a bald man’s comb.

In other words, a perfect launching pad

for my next fifteen years.

Pin it to my chest and it would break my back

but, center stage on a desk,

it’s only able to break my spirit.

 

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in the Homestead Review, Poetry East and Columbia Review with work upcoming in Harpur Palate, the Hawaii Review and North Dakota Quarterly. 

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