Two Poems

by Jeanine Walker

Recovery & Surrender

And God was in the morning God was.

Speak to me with your mouth closed

      the hands are speaking something doing fire and lines.

The next thing was the refinement of the other:

      a man tied mouth and tongue to a mute metal chair.

The kitchen around the corner yellow Formica

      stepping inside there I could see my own painted toes.

This is a premium subscription story. Please make a $4 donation to access the individual story or a $50 donation to access all the stories in Narrative Backstage for a period of one year.

If you are already a user, but not yet logged in, you may login here.
If you are new to Narrative, signing up is FREE and easy.