On the Boulevard This is not London, Vilnius or Athens. Nothing is new or old among the mistimed traffic lights, or the neat sidewalks that crumble along rows of rezoned apartment buildings. An on-ramp curves and banks. Vehicles sputter, then lurch around pedestrians, just missing the median while we, in a gazebo, drink percolated coffee out of bright cups— mid-century perfection, hand-glazed china— and speak of promises, fond expectations. How can they possibly attack this city? Copyright 2022 by Claudia Gary
Bio:
Internationally anthologized, Claudia Gary teaches workshops on Villanelle, Sonnet, Natural Meter, etc., through writer.org. Author of Humor Me (2006) and chapbooks including Genetic Revisionism (2019), she is also a health/science journalist, visual artist, and composer of songs and chamber music. See pw.org/content/claudia_gary; follow @claudiagary.
30 for 30 is sponsored by Potomac Review
Love how natural yet eloquent your lines are, Claudia, and how I see no straining at all to fit the form. While I’d love to know which city you had in mind, I get why you don’t tell us. What a fine poem.