Alex Gallo-Brown

Hummock of Ore Derves

It’s just fucking boring
he said to no one
in par tick you lore,
groaning in line for
the hummock of ore derves—
or what have you,
he never could
spell that word.
Bored in his seat,
then bored in the line,
then bored with no cash
grinning his stupid face.
An Asian man offered
to buy his drink—
he accepted, assuming it
to be harmless,
also beggars can’t and so on,
then wandered the night worried
he might again encounter
the man’s countenance.
The work being read—boring.
The conversations being held—boring.
He thought maybe he was boring,
then suppressed the supposition,
a flush worrying the flesh
in the pockets of his face.
Oh lord, he thought, make me interesting.
Make me carefree and beautiful
and inspired and rich.
The bar tops shone mirthlessly
in some other country
while he was marooned here in America
making impressions of rocket ships
with the muscles of his face.

Alex Gallo-Brown has had work in The Rumpus, The Collagist, The Nervous Breakdown, Bookslut, and a number of other places. He is from Seattle and currently lives in Atlanta.

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