New Poem by Adam Sol

Eyewear is very pleased to feature a new poem by North American poet Adam Sol this hot (yes, sunny) Monday in London.

Security Camera

     for Alex Porco

Sweethearts in school uniforms spoon froyo
     into each others’ mouths on a bench across
          from the Korean consulate.
              Death to the infidels.

Down the street some boys shed their aprons
     to practice skateboard flops off an abandoned Buick.
          We shall bathe the streets in blood.
              Someone’s mother drives by,

sipping bourbon from a spill-proof mug.  The nose-ringed
     cashier says, “Moulin Rouge has layers
          that you miss unless you’re on X.”
              Revenge revenge revenge revenge.

A kid in an all-terrain stroller prefers his thumb
     to the pacifier strapped to his collar.
          Die you fascist pig.
              Gravel gathers in the curb,

with stubs, shards, and other garbage.
     The bones of the filthy will burn forever.
          There’s nature around here somewhere.
              The bus slows for an expectant mother,

but she’s just catching her breath.  
     The godless will be torn to pieces by dogs,
          and crows will gorge on their eyes.
              A businesswoman in cowboy boots

fields a call between drags.  It’s an offer she may refuse.