oxen & antelope

Burn the city and salt the earth. Nothing that has any worth will stay and thrive; stretch and dry the speckled hides of antelope under desert sky. Let the olive orchards die. Leave the citadel in ruins, repent on the long walk west. Leather ties bind wrists to oxen, lead them lowing on unbeaten paths. … More oxen & antelope

song of misery

Sing a song of misery, let the heart collapse. There is nothing left to mourn save what is crude and crass. Aching arms and blistered feet, bloody hands and raw, red meat; repeat the lies you once believed and give in to the bitter grief. … © 2017 Anna-Christina Betekhtin, All Rights Reserved.

save the splinter

Broken eggs in unopened cartons, careful hands save the splinter from rough skin. The milk’s gone sour again, but there is no blood I can see. The feast of mold on the bread you bought yesterday and we soak your feet in warm water, try to save the things we can. … © 2017 Anna-Christina … More save the splinter

wait to bloom

For whatever reason the rose waits to bloom, I wait too. Past midsummer and the rains, autumn windfalls and winter gains, the lean sodden spring is when I trust the leaden slush and bedraggled birds to learn me a new season. What a risk to trust in this— the fetid musk of life in flux … More wait to bloom