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.

42opus is an online magazine of the literary arts.

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