ISSN: 1941-4137
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
Erika Goodrich's poetry has been published or is forthcoming in Nashville Review, Spoon River Poetry Review, CALYX Journal, Juxtaprose Literary Journal, The Pinch Journal, The Boiler, The Atticus Review, among others.
Also by Erika Goodrich:
Contemplating Event Horizon on the Winter Solstice in Florida Twenty Years After My Mother was Diagnosed with Schizophrenia
Early Morning Conversations After My Mother Stops Taking Medication
Proof of Disappearing
Fallen
after Kevin Prufer
There is now, where her body fell
a dead bird. Or, what is left of it: a flap
of frayed wing. At a glance it waves, like the headdress of a fallen
tribal chief
as night closes around it.
As though its body
will rise —
And the wind winnows a broken
hallelujah, through the crown of a winged
elm’s leaves.
*
Then the sun. Its setting shadow feathered through the trees.
And the car. The dent of her body —
Her body: the breaking of bone
on metal, from which her body flung
like confetti
flit like the wings
sparrows across a sky
of rose-dust.
*
As the body emptied, as the mind that left it
reset & zeroed, her
feet stiffened, her
fingers unfurled,
her eyes, like marbled stars —
Then, the comfort that comes, when the mind
& body un-
tether
when, finally, only those left behind can move
the body.
*
Good, that we witness the way a body stills.
Good too, that there is the dent of her body
on the car’s hood.
Good, to see the way a body
is like a machine: the way it just stops
while the cars on the cross-street keep moving.
“Fallen” is written in response to being witness to a traffic homicide. I had the unfortunate experience of watching a girl get hit by a car and shortly thereafter pass away on the shoulder of the street, much like dead animals shoved to the side. Everything happened so fast it felt surreal and the aftermath continued to haunt me. A few months after this accident, I read “Fallen from a Chariot” by Kevin Prufer which gave me access to language for these lingering emotions. Always interested in exploring new ways to view and attempt to understand death, this poem found voice.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.
All contents © the author.
