| This Edition's Poetry |
The Cup
The man I met sitting on the street yesterday
Which was his home and had been for a long time
Shook his cup at me and asked for a few coins
I let some metal clink into the hollow of his cup
The dreary echo of a question mark
I went home that night and didn’t turn on
Any lights in my apartment
No sound no touch was there
And I saw myself sitting right next to
The man with the metal cup
The man who lived his life
Without the shadow of a future
by Alexandra Seidel
Email: This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
