In a fog blanket as I stumble into guardianship Old bums cry like seagulls. spinning around the fenced-off lot He wastes no time searching He climbs the fence Noel Kalenian is a cultural mongrel and polyglot descended from Colorado pioneers, Mexican immigrants and Armenian refugees (by way of Lebanon). He grew up in Grand Junction, Colorado, a high desert town on the Utah border. He has also lived in Denver and San Francisco, where he received an MFA from San Francisco State University. He has been published in Skidrow Penthouse, Fourteen Hills, Sidebrow, South Dakota Review, and other journals.
Edge of the Brightening Bay
of slow-eyed men grumbling
shopping carts along gray water,
a boy lifts himself
from concrete where he slept
around the razor wire keep,
pressed into service by memories,
shadows and longing
for a different ending.
I skirt their rolling nests.
A seagull sings nothing like an old man
yet I hear in every voice
the laugh of some lost boy
through bricks and wires
twirling a pit bull
as if it were a child
barking at his legs.
for accidental watchmen,
his better angels,
or seagulls beating with their wings
guilts in restless voice.
dog in arm
and drops to the other side
to wander the edge
of the brightening bay.About the Author
