Collective Unrest

 

holes in the curtain 1 & 2

September 13, 2018

holes in the curtain

 

nothing knows how to begin,

without a voice.

 

a face like a gash

in the windshield of the universe.

 

rotating, rotating.

we think we inhabit a sphere,

 

something perfect,

something close to perfect,

 

but this crust

obviates an egg

 

with not enough warmth

to hatch anything but sideways

 

toward an oven.

label it escape hatch.

 

pretend we do

nothing but.

 

holes in the curtain (2)

 

a different stripe.

same zebra.

 

then it becomes erratic,

or something awfully close,

 

like the wrong-colored chinos

in pasture-land light.

 

you just know, intuiting

a choice, a supply line

 

of blood & laughter

& less is not more

 

Michael Prihoda lives in central Indiana. He is the editor of After the Pause, an experimental literary magazine and small press. His work has received nominations for the Pushcart Prize and the Best of the Net Anthology and he is the author of eight poetry collections, most recently Years Without Room (Weasel Press, 2018).

Please follow and like us:
Newer Post

The Old Colossus

  There was a time, once, when we spoke of tired, poor, huddled masses yearning to breathe free, and we did not mean people who were already here. Wretched was not an insult, and refuse was not a verb. We…
Read
Older Post

death valley vacuum

for those who never came back   they raise a gun. they raise a hand. one of them goes off. i think of raising a child or the lemon tree on my porch in this climate. all the heat comes…
Read
Random Post

Under the Gun Round Here

Under the Gun Round Here (a Counting Crows cover) Steps past the guard like a ghost Into the fog where no one notices The contrast of white on white. And in between the moon and you, The angels get a…
Read
Random Post

the lesson

Originally Published in Here Comes Everyone, 2017 Katie's party at Build-A-Bear allowed each guest unlimited choice of sequins ribbons, bows... Sam gaily picked a purple dress as only six-year-olds can do: with rainbow stripes in lamé glitter. The other moms…
Read
Random Post

The four times I spilled tea on my dress

The first time I spilled tea on my dress was when I first met you. I recognized you, a loner, and in your eyes I saw myself, a dreamer whose nights filled with images of ordinary life. I was wearing…
Read
Random Post

Day of the Daisy: A Musical

Day of the Daisy: A Musical," by Margaret Koger is a powerhouse hybrid of poetic edge and unique execution blending journalistic citation into the fray with effortless prowess as it plunges you into its winding narrative. A refreshing example of…
Read