the closest they got to heaven….
somewhere on Colonial Avenue, engines roar and cough,
and potholes send suspensions to the emergency room.
meanwhile, in a newspaper-littered room with shattered windows
and ripped wallpapers, someone’s liver has retired.
a cigarette-burnt-winged angel plays the saxophone
on a stool by the counter – the closest they got to heaven.
Giovanni Mangiante is a poet from Lima, Peru. His work has appeared in Studi Irlandesi, Three Rooms Press, Silver Birch Press, and Open Minds Quarterly, with poems forthcoming in The Piker Press and Sledgehammer Lit. He lives with his dog, Lucy. In writing, he found a way to cope with BPD.