PROSE POETRY
KIY POZZI
SOMEONE MUST
Believe there’s something new to say about rivers. Forget the happening. Explain things, not self. Have said it before. Decide this sunrise is like the first. Figure, Indiana isn’t great, but it is enough. Watch birds throw perpetual coups at the feeder. Do dishes, swap laundry. Realize: that’s where it ends. Drive just to take up space. Increase bewilderment. Imagine the sum of what has been said about the moon. View the junk in the yard differently. Return unchanged. Be one way though somewhat not. Test theory against experience. Ignore results. Be alone with all that could happen. See one thing. Ignite, blazing. Suffer images and speak them out. Have it then lose it in slow fade. Long for earlier. Zip the bag holding the body. Fall out of history. Know the difference. Learn the words not to look at. Wipe the blood and chunks of brain off the wall. Pay. Look at their hands. Turn around. Resolve to ________.
Kiy Pozzi is a writer from Rockford, Illinois.
