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A Mobile Crucifixion
Jack Brown

And then I saw the face of terror
raving into the midday sun. Here
on First Avenue. Still Ukranian.
In what sounded like Ukranian
and what looked like a Ukranian
soldier. Crew cut clean and jagged
raking into the midday sun.
Like an avatar burst upon
the conscience of time. He stood
arms waving, pouring out his torment.
A mobile crucifixion
without the comfort of finality.

—
Jack Brown lives and works in New York City. Poetry published in Adelaide, Aberration Labyrinth, The Village Sun, Hellcoal Annual, and Poets Reading the News. He is a songwriter.

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