Frat

Poetry by Juris Edgars

We collapsed like gods: turned over on our sides, heaving up
the belief we had in ourselves. We woke one morning
and became aware that we only believed that we believed,
and then just laid there.

Jeers and broken seals, water pitifully sneaked into a flask,
the brush of stubble between cheek and another hand:
these things make their causes endurable to some extent.

Affected, thrown out into the world in nothing but our underwear,
we shook and walked on our toes at thoughts of hookworms
in the soil, broken bottles crouched down in the grass, all
the possibilities of shoeless, sobered feet.

We ran the gauntlet and took our paddlings like men:
tearless, soundless in our bruisings, and refusing memory
of compulsory education. Later we laughed it off and jockeyed
for the cooler, then set our bodies down slowly, more aware
of what is and isn’t sufferable.

Juris EdgarsJuris Edgars lives and works in the Atlanta metropolitan area. Mostly he works and writes when he can. He has gotten accustomed to poetry over the years. Recently Juris was writing his first novel, but then ran out of ideas.} else {

1 comment for “Frat

  1. Not Juris
    February 9, 2011 at 3:21 pm

    Damn, that is one hot piece of poet-ass. I bet he’s single and ready to mingle.

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