He speaks “Australian,” waves his gun
to disco. I picture your tank-topped, pink-goggled
alter ego after the power grid burns out,
West Coast overrun, gasoline gangs
and post-urbanites foraging
for survival. I imagine the craving for conveniences—
antihistamines, refrigerators, washing
machines, the masses shivering and kissing
sanitation goodbye. It’s easier to breathe
after a masked demon retreats and a lumberjack slow dances
his axe down the walkway. It’s time to vote
for the most apocalyptic get-up,
though I know whose costume I’d like to
feel. I try and carry on small talk
while this music begs for release,
and the thing with feathers whispers encouragement,
having flown all the way from the bottom
of Pandora’s box. It’s late when we go
to your room to hear ourselves think,
fighting to stay out of zombie land.
Evelyn A. So
Evelyn A. So has been published or is forthcoming in literary journals such as Caesura, Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, Measure: A Review of Formal Poetry, Red Wheelbarrow (National Edition), and Reed Magazine, among others.
Artwork: “The Sunset Gathering” by Rob Woodcox
Website: http://robwoodcox.com/
Gingerbread House Lit Mag 