ryan quinn flanagan | climb the ladder

Climb the Ladder

I climb the ladder,
all the way to the top,
and look down on all
the others.

And they strain their eyes
to look up at me
sir, sir,
what are you doing
pulling down your pants
like that,
sir, sir, sir?

And then I let it come,
washing over all of them,
a red wine-darkened
squid ink

Like something shot
out of the spout
of a whale.

Then I decide to climb
back down the ladder,
sans pants,
right down to the

Where I sit
without wiping,
drying crusty
in the fading dog drip

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