Ghost
Says It's Loud At The Border
all
manner of caterwauling and hollering and carrying on, eyes
rollercoaster closed and lips drawn back in fear, in ecstasy. The
rare ones smile, smile like they're saying See?, the ones who knew it
was coming all along and that it didn't mean an end, just a layover,
a connection, a staying a bit, then a going. They smile out the
windows of the gravity bus, equally at peace on this side or the
other, ready to begin again. Maybe if y'all could think about it as
an exodus, Ghost says, like coming out of Egypt, or starting an
extended vacation, or really winning what's behind door number four,
or being filled rather than emptied, being opened and filled and
filled and filled to the point that you simply cannot, will not, do
not want to, stay there anymore.
Mary
Carroll-Hackett is
the author of six collections of poetry, The
Real Politics of Lipstick,
Animal
Soul, If We Could Know Our Bones, The
Night I Heard Everything, Trailer Park Oracle, and
most recently, A
Little Blood, A Little Rain,from
FutureCycle Press. Mary founded and teaches in the Creative Writing
programs at Longwood University and with the low-residency MFA
faculty at West Virginia Wesleyan. Mary is currently at work on a
memoir.
Comments
Post a Comment