After three months of no posts in the Sudden Prose Reprints series, I'm glad to share this prose poem by Erika Meitner, who will be reading at Burdall's Yard in Bath as part of the Bath Spa University Stand Up Poetry Series. The event will be on Thursday, 30 April at 8 p.m., and Erika will be reading with poet Fiona Benson.
When we were done, all the buses had stopped running. When we were done, the moon was painted large and low-slung on the horizon. We sat like that a long time, listening to each other exhale blue plumes of smoke which tucked themselves through checkered screens. It was near-morning and we were in our underwear. It was near-dark and we were in our underwear, my legs draped across his lap. Gentle curvature of smoke—our bodies were looted, were broke. Outside, invisible wires held up water towers and busted street lamps. The sides of semis turned the highway to gold threads. We had hallelujah billboards. We had industrial rust. He put his finger to my lips and I became the wreckage so we could find our way back. We sat like that a long time.
Copia (BOA Editions, 2014)