What Rough Beast | Poem for September 17, 2018

Sarah Caulfield
The Tower Upright

You’re gonna go far, kid. We can all see it, we’ve all got eyes;
We’ll follow you, eyelashes flickering like needles as you duck and weave,
keeping our distance when you slip in the blood.
Go on. A little faster this time, please. A little more coherent this time, please.
We’re enjoying the show. You’re making history by being alive. One more time.
It’s not easy getting ahead. Ignore the corpses underfoot, the curlicue of the
ribs around your
ankles. Think of it as calligraphy. Think of it as motivation. They didn’t want it
as much as you do.
It’s a jungle out there. It’s a battlefield. It’s a rat race.
Don’t worry. That’s just a metaphor. The rats all left this ship long ago. You’re safe here.
You’re gonna go far, kid. You’re gonna be aces.
We just have to get you out of this place.



Sarah Caulfield is the author of Spine (Headmistress Press, 2017). Her work has appeared in Lavender Review, Voicemail Poems, The Griffin, and The Mays (XXIV). She has lived in the UK, Poland and Germany, and currently lives in Japan.

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