by on August 16, 2015 :: 0 comments

That drawer with its two handles,
One in, one out;
Files on the evergreens,
Files on the banished…

And dust inspectors
Lolling about the hall;
And crusades of custom-built
Panicking muses come to stare

– Come to sound.
Come to turn you on.
Come to ask why
You’ve settled in –, vanishing.

Come to suggest you ‘fill in’
The questionnaire
While invisible spells strike
Moloch’s vacant chair…

I was there. I saw the emery claw
Tug unsuccessfully
At the two-handled draw
– One in. One out.

editors note:

Keep those files in order; categorized by darkened deed. Keep the drawer closed. (We welcome Stefanie to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. There’s another new poem in your future, plus more of her madness, on her new page – check it out.) – mh clay

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