Roxie Powell

JUST LET ME FLUSH PLEASE


Did we wake up today

Jump into the wilderness at our feet

tear through thorn bushes and

now God finds us

sitting here all tuckered out

She gets only a grunt

after flashing her aura

and we think

Hold on,  I'm about finished.



ESCHATOLOGY


Toward another end where once begun

we've given thought

And thinking

wonder what it was that was


and what was not-couldn't

we at least know that?


Tomorrow, after mass,

after the remnant of my body

suppurates quietly

below the deepest visions

of  awareness


My dog, who is now dead,

will rise up and swallow me.


And I shall perk up immediately

and announce to the vapor

that I have been taken and that

all my dog could have swallowed

was my thought.

Home   prose   poetry   art   bios   guidelines   ts publishing   Reviews