Public Spectacles
by Brenda Nicholas


On the beach in the heat of North Carolina, my son built a colossal coliseum
out of sand and shells, where he envisioned lions and Christians at battle
in the Center Ring, for the entertainment of Romans.

That night by the light of the boardwalk, we saw a drunk man
clutching a beer, his ass in the center ring, his legs draped over the eroded remains
of my son’s creation, under the same moon that shines over Rome.






Copyright 2020 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.