David Morgan O'Connor
The soap is paper thin
at The Knight’s Inn
the wrapper thicker
than salad dressing
at Holy Cow Burger
drips like a wet swim suit
No one has milk, coffee
comes with creamer white
powder for your sins
My Ex laughs over Skype
It’s the ugliest city in the world
And we’ve been to a lot of cities…
Everyone warns you it’s dangerous.
Everyone’s overweight, puffing.
I watch a man move his car
two parking spaces to be closer
to the soda machine. I’m afraid
to talk politics or race or joke
I bite my tongue 60 times
an hour and you can’t fix love or
what you can’t understand
This America the beautiful
more packaging than product
and I’m spread out cheap all
over the world always the guest
never feeling right judging
where I can never stay.
David Morgan O'Connor is from a small village on Lake Huron. After many nomadic years, he is based in Albuquerque, where a short story collection progresses. He contributors monthly to; The Review Review and New Pages. His writing has appeared in; Barcelona Metropolitan, Collective Exiles, Across the Margin, Headland, Cecile's Writers, The Great American Lit Mag, Bohemia, Beechwood, Fiction Magazine, After the Pause, The Great American Lit Mag (Pushcart nomination), The New Quarterly and The Guardian. Tweeting @dmoconnorwrites.