Today's poem is by Cynthia Cruz

        For Eva Hesse

Decadent, glass cells
Like a hive.

Or Eva Hesse, fevering
The electric divine.

I'm going back
To where I came from.

It no longer exists.

Lost like dust
Inside my little America.

In the night
Thieves come by

Carrying filth and disease
Inside their small gold boxes.

Copyright © 2014 Cynthia Cruz All rights reserved
from West Branch
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

Support Verse Daily!

Home   Web Weekly Features  Archives   About Verse Daily   FAQs   Submit to Verse Daily   Follow Verse Daily on Twitter

Copyright © 2002-2014 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved