Wednesday 5 May 2021

1 Poem by Gregg Shapiro

 Parrot Talk

My sentences
are getting shorter,
vocabulary shrinking.
I make guttural shrieks.
Sounds like I'm calling
to you from the belly
of a giant that swallowed
 
me but forgot to chew.
Other voices are on the line.
I feel like a whisper suffocating
on busy signals. I can write
my name in the steam, but
the subtlest breezes erase me
and I sink, heavy as breath.


Bionote

Gregg Shapiro is the author of seven books including the 2019 chapbooks, Sunshine State (NightBallet Press) and More Poems About Buildings and Food (Souvenir Spoon Books). An entertainment journalist, whose interviews and reviews run in a variety of regional LGBTQ+ and mainstream publications and websites, Shapiro lives in Fort Lauderdale, Florida with his husband Rick and their dog Coco.

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