Gag Order
After the tide
took care, there were left
coathangers.
Their metal jetter
than jackdaw–how sharply
they gyred.
The men urging the tide,
the men who’d made
pity less, used only
wooden hangers, fit for an artifice
of shoulder, patting down empty suits
in ceremonies
of shiny serge
while the women’s insides tattered,
poor women.
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Draft poem for Kerry O’ Connor’s Get Listed prompt on With Real Toads to use certain words from Yeats.
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