5 December 2005 | Vol. 5, No. 4
[The intolerable sound of starving] from She Writes a Ghost Story
The intolerable sound of starving
birds echoes over the water. Their names
the only source of sustenance fall
from their mouths onto the exposed
arteries half sunk in the sludge.
You pull a name from the river, cradle
it to your breast. It is a twitching egg,
a pitcher of bees you wish to pour skyward.
You imagined this feeling once before.
As a child you crawled into a well
to see how far the darkness would carry
your voice, but you didn't sing.
You sat there like a seed and waited for rain.
About the author:
Erich Schweikher is currently finishing his MFA thesis at Boise State while attempting to resurrect the literary journal cold-drill. He misses Portland, OR with all his heart, especially the friendly people at Rogue and the shade of Forest Park. Occasionally he has nightmares about never leaving Idaho.
For further reading:
Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 5, No. 4, where "[The intolerable sound of starving] from She Writes a Ghost Story" ran on December 5, 2005. List other work with these same labels: poetry.
