It was the man with the telescopic vision from the penthouse

who gave me a dozen fresh donuts in the lobby. 

It was the ingenious woman out to destroy every known Stradivari 

who spoke of doom but quelled the apian furor. 

It was the sage of 53rd avenue who ended the games of chance 

by using intelligence gathered from her spy in the highest castle. 

The cheese-filled appetizers placed on the table before the guests 

have arrived; I forgive the needle, the knife, the song, the randomness. 

Far from the cesspool of stolen objects, 

beyond the wilderness in the distant west, it was the most bare woman 

who rearranged floating commodities shed by creatures of fire 

and extolled immorality to black embers hiding in clouds. 

Then the sun began to cry about the morning,

the burden sleeping over the horizon.

---

Richard King Perkins II is a state-sponsored advocate for residents in long-term care facilities. He lives in Crystal Lake, IL with his wife, Vickie and daughter, Sage. He is a three-time Pushcart nominee and a Best of the Net nominee. Writing for six years, his work has appeared in more than a thousand publications including The Louisiana Review, Bluestem, Emrys Journal, Sierra Nevada Review, Roanoke Review, The Red Cedar Review and Crannog. He has poems forthcoming in The William and Mary Review, Sugar House Review, Plainsongs, Free State Review and Milkfist. He was a recent finalist in The Blue Bonnet Review Spring Poetry, The Rash Awards, Sharkpack Alchemy, Writer’s Digest and Bacopa Literary Review poetry contests.