When I Lose and Other Poems


When I Lose

When I lose the heart’s long rhythm—

When I have fears that we may cease,
another genus losing its single species,
then I lose speech.


Not that it’s likely, wholly,
or tomorrow, necessarily, but we know the road,
revolting with its bones.


And now that the pert, postapocalyptic
entertainment trades have trod the pocked
planet raw, wreaked every dystopian havoc, lopped


each greening branch imagination might yet
proffer to its dove. . . . We watch our midget
politicians wave their tiny arms. Jets


pepper forth. The wind is thick with them.
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.
The password field is case sensitive. Account & Password Help.