Solid Quarter

Blood Jet Poetry Series in New Orleans, weekly poetry and music as well as open mic performances

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Tuesday, October 04, 2016

Day 4: Dark Glass

Stanza 2



Susannah mostly slept, still impossibly distant, raw
no word of apology could be enough
river's breath, an unkept promise, hard to believe
raised voices screaming, do you know why he does that
changing his tone, dead cornstalks, she reached out
and touched red, side by side, adjacent worlds
scrim of terror, I'm no sound perhaps
this edge split off, a funerary heap of snowy masks, a pale ambush
and speaking of wolves, had she been afraid
nothing like fire, winds came stale
and streaked with dust, her wheel out of true
dead, like diamonds, is forever
and what's going to happen when we get there
you're a fool and I'm another
open the box, no lock, easy to grave
silent the voices, finish the job

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