Monklike in her robe
tattered, egg and port splattered
sitting hunched over a splintered desk
made of wallboard torn down
after the last natural manmade disaster
Head a mass of earworms, electric
tension jolts she jumpstarts, motors on
to record what others blank out
ignored upon awakening. Not her,
she paints our dreams—
the refrigerated trucks humming
stiff flesh wrapped in plastic
moonwalkers in garbage bags
She digs into her untouched flesh
gives us the deeply inner view
of our post-apocalyptic world—
in the name of economy
in the name of efficiency
in the name of global markets
She writes vibrantly, furiously
her mouth an old scar
a lurid hole she can never fill
an escape hatch
she ducks into
pulling the trapdoor
over her bowed head
she stays there, drawing
scenarios of our deadly destruction
the nightmare inside her
at home there, safe.
Originally from Boston, Mickey J. Corrigan writes Florida noir with a dark humor. Novels include Project XX about a school shooting (Salt Publishing, UK, 2017) and What I Did for Love, a spoof of Lolita (Bloodhound Books, 2019). Kelsay Books recently published the poetry chapbook the disappearing self. Grandma Moses Press will publish the poetry chapbook Florida Man later this year. Poems have appeared in many literary journals, online and in print.
DM du Jour 