19: April 2019 - #10 Untitled (four)

Authored by Michael Prihoda

Untitled (four)

by Michael Prihoda

for Verna you lived through that sea & i cannot curse you for doing less or not enough. there is nothing now but what has happened, nothing but what we are, hope to be despite the voices. i am not sure their quiet means the fury & hate have wore themselves out & i am not even sure of their quiet but i am sure of how disdain creates blockage & when what flows is sewage, we are left with nothing but deepening stench. you were there, though not now & i cannot avoid the essence of this or the paraffin residue smoothing a veneer over the simplified decades of turmoil & more turmoil. everything heaped in gasoline, a few fingers playing with a surplus of matches