Poetry |

“Addendum”

Addendum

 

We were born into an amazing experiment.

The music of the anthem has no boundary,

no sworn allegiance, no nation save

the one we lower into its dying body.

The opposite of a gun is wherever you point it.

They researched my offenses in the penal code.

O hopeless romantic, milkweed is in flower,

and this is the closest you’ll get to embrace.

How strange this life is mine, and not another.

Husband me.  I have vocal chords enough

for screaming, enough for veritable mime.

This is the part where I take your hand

in my hand and I tell you we are burning.

This is the part where, after the bar fight,

the food fight, the gladiator defeat,

we gaze together at the screen

of calm abstraction.

After reconciliation, consensus.

After appeasement, the coup.

Memory, stay faithful to this

moment, everlasting bruise.

This life is all afterlife, all fresco

painted by a meticulous hand.

Let me touch your rough-hewn skin

before its transformation.

Let me be the first to greet you

when you sit at the right hand of our God.

Contributor
Virginia Konchan

Virginia Konchan is the author of two poetry collections, Any God Will Do (Carnegie Mellon, 2020) and The End of Spectacle (Carnegie Mellon, 2018), a collection of short stories, Anatomical Gift (Noctuary Press, 2017), and three chapbooks, including Empire of Dirt (above/ground press, 2019). Her poetry has appeared in The New YorkerThe New RepublicBoston Review, and elsewhere.

Posted in Poetry

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.