The Square Men

Square men squat in the courtyard every night.
They turn, talk, and turn to talk
when it’s their turn again.

The blonde one hardly talks. He’s my
quiet man which listens to it all.
A black-haired boy, the one with all
that gall shouts in circles from

a circle he is in as if they’ve all
gone deaf; or if in fact he’s deaf
and can not truly know the voice.

Soon a neighbor’s teeth will engine through
an open window--it’s certainly
about that time. The blonde

one’s knees are bunting back and forth;
he knows my smile. My window can
open soon.

About the Poet:
Chris Suda's poetry has been published in blazeVOX, The Aura, Dance Macabre, and Rufous City Review. This is his first submission to this publication. None of these poems have been published elsewhere. Chris is currently a twenty-four year old undergraduate at the University of Alabama at Birmingham. He is a musician involved in three current projects: Philos Moore (singer-songwriter) In Snow (Instrumental), and Loveislight (Experimental Hip-Hop).