Sarah Carleton Tampa (Pamela Epps)
Flood Zone Back porch, black sky, bugs as big as tadpoles fly close to one light bulb, flick and bap to the pulse of pond frogs. We lounge one step from underwater in this sub-sand altitude where alligators stumble drunk into backyards led by primordial memories of submerged land and baffled to be breathing pure sodden oxygen so let’s acclimate ourselves to this place from the inside out, get soused on margaritas and tea till our heads swim-- let’s drink and dream until the walls bend, until catfish weave through louver windows until we grow gills. - first published in Valparaiso Poetry Review (Spring/Summer 2021 (Vol. XXII, No. 2) |
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