Donna Vorreyer is the author of four poetry collections from Sundress Publications, most recently Unrivered ( 2025). Her work has appeared in Ploughshares, Colorado Review, Poet Lore, and elsewhere. She lives and creates in the Chicago area, curates and hosts the monthly online reading series A Hundred Pitchers of Honey, and is the co-editor/co-founder of Asterales: A Journal of Arts & Letters.
Dust understands its own
roar, and the air forms
odd legions that rise to blur
the view. The engine hums
and hymns, and I’m blasting
Nine Inch Nails into the ether,
into the storm. Apocalypse now.
Not the movie. The real deal.
I know that truth and beauty
are the same things because
everything is ugly now. I’d crash
this car through a fence if a person
who could not lie would appear
behind it, clear the detritus
to show a hint of blue above.
Instead I stay on the road,
but I let go of the wheel. I don’t
ask Jesus to take it. He’s busy —
so many sinners, so much false
repentance — I stick a dim hand
out the window into the grime
and steer with my knees.