The public service announcement
came to us over the air

until the power failed
and with it
the public service announcement

Then as we were inundated
they got word to us via
a message in a bottle
like at the seaside

We were the new beachfront
There were no beachcombers

Jackson Pollock
would have been
at home here

rain like paint
thrown down on us
in buckets

and no bucket list

with human particulates

human bone and blood
from those caught
in the grinder

We would have
to learn to paint
all over again

like Jackson Pollock

and that
with a broad brush.


Patrick Erickson, a resident of Garland, Texas, a Tree City, just south of Duck Creek, resonates to a friend’s definition of change (albeit a bit dated): change coming at us a lot faster because you can punch a whole lot more, a whole lot faster down digital broadband “glass” fiber than an old copper co-axial landline cable. Secretariat is his mentor, though he has never been an over-achiever and has never gained on the competition.
P.S. Patrick’s work has appeared in Danse Macabre; Wilderness House Literary Review; Cobalt Review; Poetry Pacific; Red Fez; Poetry Quarterly; among other publications, and will appear in Former People; Crack the Spine, Tipton Poetry Journal and Futures Trading and in the Fall 2015 issue of The Penwood Review.



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