A Poem By Leslie McGrath
by Mark Bibbins, Editor
Bitterness in the Mouth
When did the word
 for stranger and
bitterness in the mouth 
 come to mean
 a kind of audacity?
 I’ve seen in some
 men a distinctly
 American gall — 
 they glide over
 the rest of us
 in their socks like
 we’re one long hallway
 and they’re late
 for a banquet in
 their honor. Shameless
 they tell us they’ve done us
 a favor. We needed
 polishing. They needed
 traction. Frotteurs
 work like this — 
 we come away wondering
 if we’ve been
 screwed, gorge rising
 as a hard little stranger
 gets off.
Leslie McGrath’s Opulent Hunger, Opulent Rage was a finalist for the 2009 Connecticut Book Award in poetry.
New here? Looking for more poems? You’re in the right place. You may contact the editor at poems@theawl.com.