Inertia Foiled
I could speak ugly
like a suicide weapon
inflating misery into
a ballooned and final action,
irrevocable.
I could cry like I was begging –
one leg broken, both legs
unusable, cry in my rejection,
plead pity like a half-crushed
ant.
I could hide in my comfortable spot,
refusing to move or to attempt a peering-out,
beyond
my visible understanding.
I could stop and stop forever
but I can’t because
love is stirring, waking
ready to come down the stairs
and share a language, a trust
that overpowers my sluggish mind-flow,
tells me
I could just receive
and dedicate my purpose
alone
to this sensation.
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Copyright © 2024 by Allison Grayhurst
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Published in “Setu” April 2024
https://www.setumag.com/2024/03/Lit-Art-Culture-Journal.html
https://www.setumag.com/2024/03/poetry-allison-grayhurst.html
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Published in “Medusa’s Kitchen” March 2024
https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2024/03/maelstrom.html
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Published in “Winamop” March 2024
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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
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