Poem by David Hanlon
It’s New Year’s Day
a day that’s not a day
but some ethereal state of slumber
where the thought of you
still penetrates
a new year
walking the quiet
new year streets
New
York Tendaberry on my headphones
everything new
distant
The way it quiets
to a whisper
then blasts into bombast
Nyro’s voice
ringing out
MISTERRRR I IIII GOT
then returning
to that confidential tone
drawn blind blues
all over me
as I meander
on cold concrete
David Hanlon is a poet from Cardiff, Wales. You can find his work online in over 70 magazines, including Rust & Moth, Barren Magazine & Into the Void. His first chapbook Spectrum of Flight is available at Animal Heart Press. You can follow him on twitter @davidhanlon13 and Instagram @welshpoetd.
