Sunday, April 11, 2010

Off the Cuff 10: The Hill & a Horror poem

The Hill

Earth movers trim its rim
the conical shape erased.
How long will it take to
move all this soil
to another place?

From the Prison between
my freeway, that ex-hill,
you can't see land at all.
Invisible you - ant
underground, bee
in closed hive, nucleus
in thick-walled cell - you
will emerge and wonder
if the Prison shifted.

Earth movers trim the rim
the ancient volcano is erased.
You will feel strange, ask
yourself what has changed.

People will tell you:
your unease, slight
or deep, is a natural
part of being freed.


APAD 10    prompt: horror

awake, scrambling for breath,
taste the acid thrown back,
swallow, swallow, throat
burning, add a pillow
avoid drowning

1 comment:

  1. I find the roadworks fascinating too - nicely captured in this poem Jen!