It came on bat’s wings and the vultures descended as the earth went stock-still. Instead of hugs and kisses, every cough a symbol. No longer are we allowed to touch fingers and make a noble chain for peace. Now we clasp our over-washed hands and let ourselves feel each other in more creative ways. These selfsame hands that go on writing our furious and futile songs.
Mr. Breton spoke of the marvelous. But what about bewilderment and the bewildered? The chance meeting of a dusky drowse with a stormy-gray late afternoon. Immaculate light meeting cobalt darkness in the lonely garbage-can alley. My electric mouth kissing your pink fingers one by one in aubergine ecstasy. The world going on and on even through these strange vapors.
Cindy Hochman is the president of “100 Proof” Copyediting Services and the editor-in-chief of the online poetry journal First Literary Review-East. She is on the book review staff of Pedestal Magazine and has written myriad reviews for many other publications. Her latest chapbooks are Habeas Corpus (Glass Lyre Press) and The Number 5 Is Always Suspect, in collaboration with poet/collagist Bob Heman (Presa Press). Cindy recommends the Democratic National Committee.