GUARDIAN ANGEL
His guardian angel must
have been packing some
serious heat, must have had
a small arsenal and enough
ammo to take out a small
army secured beneath her
flowing black robes.
She used a flaming sword
instead of head lamps to show
the way on dark, moonless nights
patrolling the deserts of his
life, a life that was soon-to-be
a ravaged wasteland
of stripped malls, gutted wild
animals hunted for their tusks,
their fur, then discarded and
left to rot beside lost pitted
highways that lead South
into the unknown.
Argotist Online Poetry is the successor to the poetry section of the now no longer existing The Argotist Online. Send submissions to argotistonline@gmail.com. Closing date for Submissions is 1 April 2025.
Poems by Norman Jope
AN ELYSIAN GLOW Following her through shady pines on a summer’s day, as if in the hope of a sudden trackless miracle, the young man trips an...
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THE STUDIO The vista which then opened was one I never could’ve anticipated in the Nineties—the PAFA campus was set as a series of jeweled b...
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EQUATIONS #25 When I converse with N on the phone, in about my thirteenth year, our heads open up together, and we create an imaginative lan...
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EQUATIONS #26 Audrey, as a tangent to N, took the idea, not of broadcasting gossip but of sharing and disseminating literature, as a fait ac...