Back to Seth Tosi McMillan's Artist PageTo the Artist's Page                       Back to the Unlikely Stories home pageTo our home page
the last of the laughers laughs lastTo Seth Tosi McMillan's previous piece     the people started glowingTo Seth Tosi McMillan's next piece

Pressure Shutters
they are all of me, weighted,
standing tall, flattened, 

you see they carry it,

how they talk to you,

how you feel around them, 

responding with shells of 


nights hanging out the backdoor
without a shirt, holding a beer and looking into nothing,

they are out there 
long enough, 

hanging out enough, 

fighting crayfish with tough foam in their hair,

poop-fresh lies hanging from their cloaks,

you talk to them with your microphone,
as you bear down on them with a laden cart,

packets of meat,

inside are their old black lungs itching.

To the top of this pageTo the top of this page