9 January 2009 | Vol. 8, No. 4

Substation Sonnet

Alien park across the street is usually

quiet, secretive, cloaked in evergreen.

Tonight, lightening amps the A-frames,

tilts the drone of my fridge and A/C—

surrounded by the daily buzz,

wonder if I percolate to the same

watt-worn beat. Lights go out,

storm pruning the trees, dark kitchen

good for thinking how too many shallow

currents run me. Another hot metal limbo,

summer's trace of a bigger disconnect—

I'm an unjuiced joule in a control-building

universe, silent in the shadows,

rain dripping silver off the eaves.

printer-friendly | printer

About the author:

Sally Molini is a freelance writer whose work has appeared or is forthcoming in LIT, Beloit Poetry Journal, the MacGuffin, Siren, Hanging Loose, Stirring, Avatar Review, Segue, 32 Poems, and elsewhere. A graduate of Warren Wilson College's MFA Program, she's currently working on a first book. She lives in Nebraska.

For further reading:

Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 8, No. 4, where "Substation Sonnet" ran on January 9, 2009. List other work with these same labels: poetry, sonnet.

42opus is an online magazine of the literary arts.

copyright © 2001-2011
XHTML // CSS // 508