(POETRY)
EVERYTHING WE FEAR
JOHN DORROH
EVERYTHING WE FEAR
JOHN DORROH
EDITOR'S CHOICE AWARD
Let’s not talk about the coronavirus
or the tornadoes in Nashville
or the tight-lipped man named
Tony in 34C. Let’s not talk about
your mother’s surgery or the cat
who keeps us up most nights or the
possibility that typhoid will return with
a new name like Contra-vic-1003.
Instead, let’s pretend our bodies
are barrels and we roll down the hill
in front of the city museum, up over
the lip of the lake into the murky depths
all the way to Bali. Let’s dip our fingers
into our lattes from that eclectic coffee shop
on the corner of 6th and Sassafrass, fling some
foam on the walls, run away and blame
it on the kids at the next table. Let’s skip
our 2:00 class and conjure up a universe
with rules that apply only to others.
or the tornadoes in Nashville
or the tight-lipped man named
Tony in 34C. Let’s not talk about
your mother’s surgery or the cat
who keeps us up most nights or the
possibility that typhoid will return with
a new name like Contra-vic-1003.
Instead, let’s pretend our bodies
are barrels and we roll down the hill
in front of the city museum, up over
the lip of the lake into the murky depths
all the way to Bali. Let’s dip our fingers
into our lattes from that eclectic coffee shop
on the corner of 6th and Sassafrass, fling some
foam on the walls, run away and blame
it on the kids at the next table. Let’s skip
our 2:00 class and conjure up a universe
with rules that apply only to others.
John Dorroh may have taught high school science for a couple of decades. Whether he did is still being discussed. His poems have appeared in Selcouth Station, North Dakota Quarterly, Dime Show Review, Blue Moon Literary & Arts Review, and many others. He also writes short fiction and the occasional rant.
