Monumental
Paul Ilechko
The carpets are soaked the walls
are spattered
there are only shards
of broken glass
inside the frames
this thing is bigger
than whatever
we imagined it to be
* * * * * * *
our weeks are parsed and soon
they will be months and we try
again to make the effort
to imagine the possibility
of passing years
* * * * * * *
the spaces between
the days
have magnified
have squeezed time
into a sparse attenuated thing
that flickers faintly
within the overwhelming darkness
* * * * * * *
somewhere
between these walls
our stories are told
daubed with paint
or chalk
on the blackened masonry whispered
from parent to child
from neighbor to neighbor
as a bulwark
against forgetfulness
* * * * * * *
here we are contained
confined
a melody
of contagion
a potentiality
of sickness
a curfew a lockdown
torn from life and reconfigured
as a circus beast
playing the required tricks
while we await
the terminal visit
from the sociable butcher.
Paul Ilechko is the author of three chapbooks, most recently “Pain Sections” (Alien Buddha Press). His work has appeared in a variety of journals, including Rogue Agent, San Pedro River Review, North Dakota Quarterly, Book of Matches and The Banyan Review. He lives with his partner in Lambertville, NJ.