Once Past the Anger: Hybrid Prose Poem

Through yellow dawns waking up alone

Photo by Jack Hamilton on Unsplash

There’s a place to start, once past the anger, the slivers that poke up through liver, lungs, through yellow dawns waking up alone —

I know all the T-words:

trauma taunting tautology
turn-about
tour de farce too-much-rage…
the scans of failed
pages that litter
this room in my head