After the passing
of a cloud
the sunset untied
It’s rich head of hair.
We jumbled into the back
of her BMW convertible.
A laughing, sunglassed
knot of languor,
legs and luxury.
Rusty, fruity sunset beams
licked the lewd body
of our skating, purring car,
and bit her brunette hair-
dappling it with plums.
Lavender-lit little homes
with clean windows like the sea
staring at the foot of the mountain
in ambitious reverie.
People in pastel-pink shorts
are drinking colorful drinks
our car thrusts its neon tusks
into its black, wet streets.
Now a little drunk
on the sunshine
on our happiness
I see a woman
with child and sign:
“Food please. God bless.”
About the Poet
Jack Phillips is a student studying philosophy and history in Cape Town, South Africa. This is the first time he has been published, not the last. He enjoys reading and the blues.
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.
Vita Brevis Press. 