Untitled

This poem is filled with rage
Yet underneath
There’s blood soaked sand.
The alchemy of terror
Is in grains
And I hear it
From the basement.
“You must have such good hearing
Since you’re blind.”
The God of sand
Is transforming me.
Look, some of the creatures
Are getting away.

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by skuusisto