everything smells like soap except that one hallway smeared with
volatile coconut particles, reminds me of that porn theatre in some
dank Indianapolis district wild with heavy air and greasy tanning
huts, but this air isn’t thick enough to smear the carpet’s psychedelic
blacks, greys, and whites, or wax over the mold on the back
stairwell. my feet tell me about the storm’s movement toward
destiny with its first landing, an oppressive barometric trauma
blanket laid across my body & face a Picassoed shaped migraine
snaggled enough to shred any carpet laid to hush the exodus,
the many feet, toe tapping fear – what’s next? what’s after being heard?
no. no dreaming at the double tree where two trees, enjambed as reflection
repel each other at the roots
Sundress Best of the Net Nominee, Suzanne S. Rancourt, Abenaki/Huron descent, has authored Billboard in the Clouds, Northwestern Univ. Press, (received the Native Writers’ Circle of the Americas First Book Award,) murmurs at the gate, Unsolicited Press, 2019 and Old Stones, New Roads, Main Street Rag Publishing, April 2021. She is a USMC and Army Veteran with degrees in psychology, writing, and expressive arts therapy. Widely published, please view her website’s publication list: www.expressive-arts.com
