Andrei Codrescu


Andrei Codrescu Poems

Best Poem of Andrei Codrescu

Virgin Mule

The conversations of the French
Quarter mules in their stables
after a full day of pulling
tourists and voters over cobble-
stones is not espresso witty
and in their dark no TVs feed
them news of the ends of mules
elsewhere in the Middle East
and West. In our stables the ends
of others are a fact of atmosphere.
The yoyos on the mystery island
nextdoor are revving familiar tools
in backyard now gripped by failure
first of electricity than of
a meaner something that'll grow
into nothing we'll know in the A.M.
Once they were visitors like us
then...

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