Today's poem is by Elizabeth Breese
Calamity The Way I Think It
The radio is a brown jug
puffing world news over my shoulder.
I will hear it before I feel it; sooner
or later, a tornado will come
for everyone who knows
my love language is non sequiturs.
Everyone to the tub, where I shower
with my houseplants,
clog the drain & drown the burro's tail.
Everyone in the ditch,
cover your heads. I would be a dolphin
before even a benign shark.
You in the crawlspace, I am listening.
I am in bed developing safety
rituals with rose & cedar candles.
I hand crank my radio beyond
its lethargic batteries. Oh, Most National
Weather Service, be with them
the lover who knows I hate cooking
for myself, who knows I get marooned
at the counter by a bag of lentils,
who knows, unattended, I only eat
Cheerios in pink yogurt.
The cousin with a therapy cat.
The friend with snowflake tattoos
on her neck. The parents.
Everyone in the basement with flash-
lights & important papers, everyone
lodged beneath the overpass
I am all ears & yours through the sirens
but I am certain it will end, sooner
or later, with me saying nothing to no one.
Copyright © 2011 Elizabeth Breese All rights reserved
from The Lonely-Wilds
The Kent State University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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