Monday, March 28, 2016

Susan Hawthorne #88 five rivers, Phlegethon

the boat has gone round in a circle
returned to the Acheron
it meets its tributaries
and Periphlegethon
the air is filled with a miasma of smoke
my eyes run not with tears of sorrow
but from canisters of tear gas 
hurled at me
the way is slow as we circumnavigate
these two endless rivers
I sleep for an unknown time

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