I am an upstanding citizen. Hair
upstanding. Standing on the bus,
no seat given.
I am the ghost in the mirror. The startle.
The flashback. The time before.
The days to come.
I am sutured by death. Free of him.
He, free of it. End
I am fog lamps on the dark
dock. Headlights around
the bend. Deadly.
I am the iron-filled mouth.
The loose teeth. The fat lip.
The cloven tongue. Hit.
This poem was written as part of the ekphrastic Halloween poetry challenge.
Devon Balwit writes in Portland, OR. She has five chapbooks out or forthcoming: How the Blessed Travel (Maverick Duck Press); Forms Most Marvelous (dancing girl press); In Front of the Elements(Grey Borders Books), Where You Were Going Never Was (Grey Borders Books); and The Bow Must Bear the Brunt (Red Flag Poetry). More of her individual poems can be found here as well as in The Cincinnati Review, The Stillwater Review, Red Earth Review, The Inflectionist; Glass: A Journal of Poetry; Noble Gas Quarterly; Muse A/Journal, and more.
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