At the gate, bottles with cut lips. Crypts of grass cuttings. Moth wings. Stationary
weather front. Still
a front. At the gate, a trail worn thick. Strands of birch. Playing cards wet
and mangled in
alleys, no jokers. At the gate, a gate. Handles, pulled. Insouciant. Towards
a line of people bent
on waiting. At the gate, a passage to. Through the gate: changeling of fences.
Philip Kobylarz is an out of work adjunct professor/writer who lives in abject poverty in one of the most capitalistically corrupt and illiberal places on the planet- the “east bay” of San Francisco (never mind that it’s actually an estuary). He has decided to follow the Chinese momentum known as the “lie flat” movement as it is no longer possible for writers, artists, scholars, or anyone with even mildly socialistic inclinations of desiring to help others to eek out survival on unlivable wages, no healthcare, no job security, and no appreciation whatsoever in the (dis) United States of America.
Euphony Journal 