Jetsam and Flotsam

A poem by Len Kuntz

I sit on a sidewalk
listening to the rain,
how it sounds like
chicks pecking on the pavement
as a thousand cabs slog by,
sloshing filthy rainbows
of water over me.
We’ve taken cabs
up and down this same street,
across the Brooklyn Bridge
to Bryant Park or Nolita.
You said, “The rain is nothing to fear,”
even as the floods came,
boats unmoored,
boards like broken bones,
the essence of us
now nothing more than
jetsam and flotsam
wafting away with the rising tide.

Len Kuntz is a writer from Washington state, an editor at the online magazine Literary Orphans, and the author of I’m Not Supposed To Be Here and Neither Are You, available from Unknown Press. Check out his website


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