2020 Quarantined in Utah
5.7
Earthquake trumps COVID 19
Can’t
leave can’t stay in a daze
Coarsely
aloft in her unbridled Dressing-gown
She
wakes as Cock-Crow clambers out of her Sleeping-bag
Malaise
snot-green beer bottles fall broken
Magna’s
copper mine with Pittsburgh perfume Devil’s Snow cloud
The
maze of dark turning alabaster white
She
crept, she slid, she hurtled as she hides from the quake
Human
shells crucified skirts, her only swag
Sabastian
and she went to cat under door-ways
Candle
stick in wine bottle, ghost light soft
They
gamble a traverse to cross, the cross-walk at dark.
Terry
Brinkman
Terry
has been painting for over forty five years. Has Five Amazon E- Books. Poems in
Rue Scribe, Tiny Seed. Winamop, Snapdragon Journal, Poets Choice, Adelaide
Magazine, Variant, the Writing Disorder, Ink Pantry, In Parentheses, Ariel Chart,
New Ulster, Glove, and in Pamp-le-mousse, North Dakota Quarterly, Barzakh,
Urban Arts, Wingless Dreamer, LKMNDS and Milk Carton Press