Lyn Coffin


bend your head then head for the hills

hills around the city white elephants under blankets

keep it under (w)raps I love the city

dirty smelly human hot dogs sweating as they turn on the fires of hell who turned on that light?

what is this, an interrogation?


oh god now the burning hot intensity of interest

what is your interest in this mother matter-

mother mother burning bright in a central parking light

the fall of leaves litters chelsea by the sea

boot heels high heels smashing unmanned manning man up, boy- your country’s giving you the finger

in the last grasp gasp the google-eyed grip

of decapitated capitalism

the pro prom profit monger mongrelizing

sidestepping sideswiping human it

damns what can’t be dammed forever

god it’s hot!

still in the swirling still heart eye of hurricanes the

sweet indefatigable grass pokes itself camel-like through the eye of the sidewalk and gives us

a concrete example of what can happen if we



Lyn Coffin is a widely-published writer (30 plus books- poetry, prose, both, neither). She is currently in Georgia, the country, translating Galaktion and trying to learn Georgian.