A Quiet Root

We comb through hundreds of literary magazines to bring you one stellar poem or flash fiction piece every weekday.

“Except for the cloud of doom that hangs over everything” by Matthew Olzmann

There’s nothing I can complain about
except a world-devouring haze of anguish
that threatens to touch every single thing I love
if I don’t acknowledge, constantly, its presence,
as if this cloud were an ancient deity
demanding endless veneration, as if saying,
I’m still alive, at a volume louder than a whisper
would sound the sirens and alert the bosses
to a glitch in the system in need of correction.

Read it in Post Road

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