Saturday, April 3, 2010

Fear

Before I write my poem for today's prompt of what scares me most, I just want to say that I think it's interesting that today I also received an email from my professor letting my classmates and I know that a horror and fantasy magazine, Niteblade, is in need for submissions. I'll have to face my fear and submit it, too.

Getting Used To This

I'm scared that the work I do now
will mean nothing tomorrow.

The truth is, reality won't hover
like rain buttoned up to the neck.

In a parking lot in Squirrel Hill, there's a wall:
it says "the wall" in white spray paint.

Is that it? Nothing for all this?

Sometimes I feel like the cat who kneads,
never learned to leave the litter,

so with the unlocking of my fevered lips,
I speak like wet fire: truthfully, softly harsh.

Beyond all of this, I fear

you will leave me soggy and wanting

3 comments:

  1. I like this poem. I think it would be stronger without the first stanza, because it's in the second stanza you start getting into the meat.

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  2. I love the way each stanza is somewhat disconnected and unrelated but actually quite significant to each other. The specifications of this poem are great too - the parking lot in Squirrel Hill especially. Great ending too!

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  3. In a parking lot in Squirrel Hill, there's a wall:
    it says "the wall" in white spray paint.

    ...wonderful.


    I feel like a proud mama :)

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