Creation Myth, Damon McLaughlin
The sidewalk will end in the belly of a girl.
A Chevrolet will stamp her abdomen
with stars, and we will watch her
wilt, motionless. Today
rain comes.
Fills the streets with yellow
fish. Smells from the market swim
down boulevards, gather on corners
with guitars and saxophones and fire
barrels wishing another day of rain.
Trees rejoice, limbs free
from overcoats, roots shaking
their chains. People stop
to watch water turn to steam and rise
angelic from the sewers. Tomorrow
beneath the city, the girl’s golden hair.
Her brain will bloom an apple tree.
Her belly will swell with bees.
(Source: damonmclaughlin.com)
