Sunday, March 18, 2012

how to fly, and other myths

how to fly,
and other myths

late one night in the pouring rain, i heard a sound like glass breaking and trees falling, like milk spilling and children singing, i heard four hundred hands turning keys in four hundred locks, i heard fathers waking up and putting on their boots and rubbing their eyes. i thought i heard it. i thought i heard it all. i thought i heard the song of a morning dove and of a magpie, i thought it heard it, but no, it was only the sound of two thousand years of men trying to get back their youths, trying to rewrite history, trying to strip the past bare and leave it as this: "we did a good job. we did a good job".

This has been The Devastation Diaries.



  1. #InLove
    This made me think and I loved the answer.

  2. That first long sentence. I can't do anything. Everything is so random but they all fit perfectly almost like no other sound could replace any of those things in that paragraph because you thought of them all. literally all of them.

  3. Okay. I don't want to overreact right after reading this but then again I want to say this is one of my favorite poems ever