Surrender to the Pose: Prose Poem
Saturday Poetry Prompt: revise a favourite line
I have not lain awake all night on
purpose. Whether peaks or valleys, the air
hangs haunting,
consuming. In the corner, disparate shadows
declare their love
for me: hollow, decadent, sinning — and there’s
no break
in the shouting. The rampant rose
begins to take over
the clatter and roar of small and large
plows on Broadway. Crashes into
whatever is left of my slumber — but that was
gone already, anyway.
So the black opium
is a step away and down, into a different
air with shadows that don’t speak
so loud, don’t shout
don’t curse the early morning but rest
and surrender.
I’ve categorized all
my losses, alphabetized the longing — they score
deep lines. Trying for the segment
of joy, hung like half a worm, still reaching
for earth
still alive and eating. Ah but sorrow is
hungry too. And, besides, even
curled back in this narrow…
