Tuesday, 7 December 2021

One Poem by Susan Tepper


 

To The Cellars

 

In the worst parts

counting thirteen steps

you descend to the cellars

seeking extreme unction

in free fall—

Commonplace are your prayers:

The boiler chugging hot & fiery.

Lights coming on  

when the ceiling switch

is flicked.

No dirty water

from sudden squalls

hovering inches above

the concrete floor:

Metaphor or premonition—

An insistence on blue floor paint.

Finally all the leaves are down

and the tree’s dead arms stretch out

with insoluble questions.

What do I know?




Susan Tepper is a twenty year writer and the author of nine published books of fiction and poetry.  Her most recent are a poetry chap CONFESS (Cervena Barva Press, 2020) and a funky road novel WHAT DRIVES MEN (Wilderness House Press, 2019). Currently, she’s in pre-production of an Off-Broadway Play she wrote and titled ‘The Crooked Heart’ based on artist Jackson Pollock in his later years. www.susantepper.com

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