I think
To shrink
The distance
Of resistance
Inside self
To all else-
Knowing
Showing
Vulnerability
In the mystery
Leaves what is closed
Openly exposed-
To explanation
Under examination
When there isn’t one
That hasn’t gone
Until roof floor and sky door
Are no more-
Only roulette rubbles
Of drone troubles
Imprisoning
Reasoning
In cubist ghettos
Wearing jazz stilettos-
Flashing flamingo legs
To pink paradise Harlem heads
While new trees grow up mute
And ripen with strange fruit
Some whites too this time
A drowned boy me and mine.
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Strider Marcus Jones
Picture Rupert Loydell
Strider Marcus Jones – is a poet, law graduate and former civil servant from Salford, England with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales. He is the editor and publisher of Lothlorien Poetry Journal https://lothlorienpoetryjournal.blogspot.com/. A member of The Poetry Society, nominated for the Pushcart Prize x3 and Best of the Net x3, his five published books of poetry https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/ reveal a maverick, moving between cities, playing his saxophone in smoky rooms.
His poetry has been published in numerous publications including: Poppy Road Review; International Times Magazine; The Galway Review; The Huffington Post USA; The Stray Branch Literary Magazine; Crack The Spine Literary Magazine; The Lampeter Review; Panoplyzine Poetry Magazine and Dissident Voice
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