Fall 2019 / Poetry 2019 / Volume 50

SANCTUARY By: Toti O’Brien

Missing sign of unnamed street

un-located transient

free to erase itself from the map


Phony architecture 

of unoccupied mall

plaster peeling off 

candy-colored walls

fading like nylon underwear 

forgotten on clotheslines


This is where I like hiding

my step mesmerized 

by crevices

thin fault-lines 

where reality slips 

below surface


Beach resort in winter

Walled window

Terrain vague

After hours


Where the emphasis slants

toward eerily sketched 

past and future

falling on not-here not-now

I rest from omnivorous 

tangible overexposure


My step 

pulls out of gravity

a slight dizziness

a suspension of breath

then I hear the quasi-imperceptible hum

secret tocsin

endless revolutions 

of music-box-ballerinas

light clicks 

of old mechanic toys


This is where 



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