The SWAMP REVIEW
The Half-Life of a Glacier:
by Odessa Von Ruden
an unprecedented acceleration:
cascading in torrents and
streams and waterfalls
downstream where a girl
is playing in water
unknowingly surrounded
by corpses of ancient relics
sold in
little plastic bottles
the price of two dollars
inflating like the ballooning sea
as people hike to the mountain's peak
they gasp at the annihilation
children unimpressed cry home
as their parents mourn the collapse
of the seemingly eternal
structures of their upbringing
vanished overnight
until people forget they existed
at all
told as legends fictional
structures edifices skyscrapers
until children even forget
about ice about snow about hail
the birds cry out
a glacial elegy
a lament a loss a
constant refrain
so that even the cruelest
god may take pity
and restore them
Purgatory in E Minor:
by Odessa Von Ruden
Suspended in a state of semiclarity
Living seems achingly distant
Surrounded by tainted terrain
Brimming with unfamiliarity
My hands, bones brittle and emaciated
My legs, treacherous of treason
To see some eldritch horror, with movements
Shrewd, abrupt, calculated
When my legs have been pardoned
I sprint, bare feet cracking against concrete
In a room full of mirrors
The hallways, pulse and contract
And as I fall, the floor will crumble
Plummeting into the tangible darkness
The brush of velvet, of silken crimson ribbon
Suddenly slapped with sunrise