Medea V / DepartureAnna Maria Hong
Whale-road. The path to Athens glittered with blues, and as we rolled, I dove under with those broad, gray backs through each wave. What mattered now? A clutch of minnow breaking surface asunder, the sun on my face burning like potential, salt in my hair, my skin. The knowledge of you unable to locate the source of denial. The world billowing below this normal vessel. The spray and scent and speed. A strafe of white gulls peeling over the hull’s wall, blooming like bare streaks. A hint of fire on the horizon . . . Upon leaving the Kingdom where every hero’s a victim and vice versa: the V-shaped flight of something rising in rows and rows and rows.
Anna Maria Hong Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2019, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.|