Poetry 2014 / Volume 45

The Oldest Guy in the Arcade — John Grey

One pin-ball machine in the arcade, just the one nod to the ancestors of all these new-fangled machines. I don’t want to drive at Indy, wipe out aliens, gangstas, monsters, ski down precipices, pilot rocket ships through meteor showers. These thumbs, these fingers, are designed for flippers, and these ears are trained to the thump … Continue reading