The NY Literary Magazine

A Distinguished Selection of the Finest Modern Literature

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modern abstract poems

Unfit by Ron Walker

The shadows sway,
and stand agape,
and hair erect-
upon the nape
of time inside
this whiskey glass-
Descending
into Dragon Pass…

I have a soul
that must be sold-
I’m told it’s worth
the weight in gold,
alas,
I cannot get it back-
from voices on
this hellbound track…

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