18 November 2009 | Vol. 9, No. 3
Volcanoes and Whispers
The glass was empty except
for the cherry… the TV showed
volcanoes in Ecuador.
And rain and rain
in the South of France.
I keep telling you
there's a hole
in my head—a black hole
eating all my thoughts and
words I meant to say.
That's why i can't speak. Everything
has been eaten away, gnawed by those
brown rats that inhabit
the black holes
in the sky the half moon.
Orion cries out loud
so i put drops in his eyes
lavender oil on his forehead
and he whispers good night.
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About the author:
Carolina Vargas, a dual citizen of the U.S. and Colombia, was born in Bogotá. Sharing two cultures and languages, she writes, thinks, dreams, and talks in both. She graduated from Agnes Scott College, then studied and traveled for two years in Spain and France. She received an MFA in poetry from Arizona State University. At present she lives in Columbus, Ohio, gardening, writing, painting, and volunteering at the hospital.
For further reading:
See the complete list of work by Carolina Vargas at 42opus. Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 9, No. 3, where "Volcanoes and Whispers" ran on November 18, 2009. List other work with these same labels: poetry.
