Zone, Happy AnniversaryNot of marriage, because what’s that?
There’s a new space         (this one, ours)
born of new age.     So happy
here,
together.
The managers would have us earn it,
nurse us on their image then
chain us to a corner of their freedom.
Fuck them.     The only
image is a pulse
keeps this in motion,
beats our distances
into days around no vein.          May
this stay
a city with no center
and happy spread the plague up to the gates.
Andrew Baron's poems have appeared
previously in Zone. He lives in Portland, Oregon.