A new poem by Jordan Irvine.

Then Worse

Man stood over the bridge like

That’s it 

Rocks stand scared stiff and water says

Excuse me 

Drug dealers on scooters

Polite men turn to looters

Got a sentence longer than Virginia Woolf’s

Look at the clock

Chop chop 

I got places to be

Wide eyed

This my first time in the casino

I stay in the corner like the sun in kids drawings

A sparrow with vulture intentions

Set my boundaries like tape when painting

I’m more blessed than a sneeze in church

She treats me like I’m God

Then worse