Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Here It Comes

Here It Comes

Something big approaches. We feel it.
Thunder gets in us, rattles around in
the chest like a growl disconnected
from the vocal cords, the mouth.
Before the train enters stage right,
red lights flash and a bar drops to prevent
a car from getting caught up in its velocity.
The ocean announces itself miles away,
salting the air. We hold it in, enormity
nebulized. I catch myself listening for it
sometimes, wanting a giant to walk above
me, as if crossing a bedroom upstairs. Boom,
boom, boom, I’m ready, here it comes.


  1. Reminded me of a piece I wrote a few years ago...this gave me that 'me against everything' feel of personal invincibility, of being able to push fear and dread aside and face it with hysterical willpower. But then, that's me. (grin) I loved this, Hannah. Thanks for sharing.

  2. Really enjoyed this one, especially the "boo, boom, boom" of the giant upstairs. I knew more than one giant when I lived in an apartment building.

  3. reminded me of the Langoliers...beautiful poem as usual xx

  4. My moment of 'periled thought', which comes almost daily, comes to me quietly, unseen, abruptly, spontaneously and suspiciously juxtapose to the context of the moment but there it is. Facing me without a mirror. And the enemy is?

  5. Something about this reminded me of heart burn. I hear the ocean, drowning out that giant.


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