Vladimir’s Joe

      never saw saint petersburg
      he was too drunk
      to dance in   any sort of revolution

      the closest he ever got to siberia
      was north philly in february

      making snow angels
      out of DTs
      from a basement window

      he could only dream
      of the motherland

      scranton, pa before last call
      went out   like a battle cry

      he hung out with vegans
      junkies and born again feminists

      removing the blood of oppression
      from roof tops
      from the leaves of trees
      from the POV of a pint bottle
      turned inward  toward  the soul
      of this  city

      he painted love
      on every corner

      his invisible canvas

      drank everything

John Dorsey is the author of sev­eral col­lec­tions of poetry, includ­ing Sodomy is a City in New Jer­sey (Amer­i­can Met­tle Books, 2010), Leaves of Ass (Unadorned Press, 2011) & Tomb­stone Fac­tory (Epic Rites Press, 2013). His work has been nom­i­nated for the Push­cart Prize. He may be reached at archerevans@yahoo.com.