Poorboys by Mona Zote |

Poorboys by Mona Zote

I have been thinking about you, Junaid
Thinking about how someone said

Make a noise, be witness to this moment.
(He was madder than hell, you bet).

But I ask you, as you lie in an untidy heap,
Why would I write about you when I know

There will be others following close behind.
We will see more boys, the poor boys,

We will hear their laughter, their banter and clatter
As they pile through the door, rushing out

And straight onto newspapers the rain will mulch
Overnight, or a mother use to wrap a couple of sweets

That she bought against your return, boy.
And now a fat black fly sticks to their sweetness

As if charting an unblinking eye. The sun slumps on.
There will be more boys, and flies to cover them.

Having lost the comfort of cigarettes, I remain
Contemplating these fingers, clean, free of stain.