on america
︎︎︎ Natalie Mariko
︎ MAY 26, 2022
the sky laid a hand on sheets
& cut like widening scissors,
cajoling the hem
mouthwide.
the clouds protected
from fraying
but the heat said
‘rain’
& breakthru green
reached up
the neck of the sky;
so the blind
sheets swelled
& locusts
& night came
& everything blind－
until clouds were just
sheets in the sky
& what
was naked
was red.
& the locust-dead swelled.
& rot
& vim
like comments
polluted
the wind around it.
& the blocked
sky stunk
w/ green
clouds.
& above shone white white stars.
& cut like widening scissors,
cajoling the hem
mouthwide.
the clouds protected
from fraying
but the heat said
‘rain’
& breakthru green
reached up
the neck of the sky;
so the blind
sheets swelled
& locusts
& night came
& everything blind－
until clouds were just
sheets in the sky
& what
was naked
was red.
& the locust-dead swelled.
& rot
& vim
like comments
polluted
the wind around it.
& the blocked
sky stunk
w/ green
clouds.
& above shone white white stars.
Natalie Mariko is a poet from New Jersey. Her works have appeared in TINGE Magazine, Cixous 72, trains zine, feelings journal, bridge poetry, Lazy Susan/blue arrangements, and have been featured on various programs on Cashmere Radio and rebootFM. She is currently based in Athens, Greece.
Also by Natalie: dates/dates/dates, been, a river