dangling from his shoulder as he
stretches onto his side in the Cistern’s shadow mosaic,
his crisp blazer folded beneath his white crown.
When I approach to ask
if he might sign a petition for everyone
to start loving one another, he lowers his book and
wordlessly draws a pen from his breast pocket, and leans
forward to grab the clipboard.
Posted on April 13, 2014, in books, Charleston, College, College of Charleston, Language, Poems, Poetry, publishing, writer, Writing and tagged Charleston, Derek Berry, poem, poetry, spoken word, word salad. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.