What Rough Beast | Poem for September 11, 2017

Zachary Taylor Knox

tortured atlas lays quartered
and splayed across the coffee table put
on display as a reminder to
those that wish to betray the fallen way
and run away, dear god there has to be
another way, maybe if we tried real hard
and made the time to pray to the titan’s

makeshift altar maybe he would let us
escape this constant fear of financial
and physical ruin, he looks down from his skies
and cries my sun the world is shrinking
the waves are sinking the shores again
the glory of atlantis again fleeting from our
beating oars, row faster bastard, there’s

no use soon all will be one and every-
body n/o/ne


Zachary Taylor Knox’s poems have appeared in Ealain and Penny Ante Feud. He lives in Fort Madison, Iowa.

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