Thursday, September 26, 2013

More ENG217 Stuff

We auctioned off first lines and I got this one.  I'm fairly happy with this.

Nights of Elijah

At three a.m. a small voice knocks
With blunt butter-knife consistency
And guides me, catatonic sleeper
to the kitchen table - set for tea.
A small voice existing entirely on it's inside
Like angels and jelly filled donuts,
and the songs that make the young girls go nuts -
At two a.m. a mouth of fire
Devoured the house; it burnt the curtains
and the pelmets,
smashed the glass and muntin bars.
I was terribly afraid,
when it cauterised the shadows to the walls,
I woke and sweat poured down my face
but you were not in the blaze.
At ten thousand feet I thought of when you sing,
the shadow of a flock of geese went jetting by the wing.
And as the cockpit bent
in inevitable descent
I hoped the ground would bring my end
but I awoke
At one a.m,
Before the scuttling of many little legs -
the myriad things I do not know.
Some small ghost may have come,
some ten thousand rooms shook
But all the atoms shook together,
a dizzying celestial snow-globe.
I could not hide anything
for I was at once everything
yet in an instant nothing,
and it was embarrassing
as when asked what one is thinking
and they don't want to say
but it's obvious.
"What are you thinking?" (In your small way):
that you were not in the shaking
That I've been having strange dreams.
That I nearly came down to the kitchen
when a fierce gale came passing through
But it wasn't you.