top of page

GUEST POET // Nina Mercep : The Demon

The buckets are now full,

The fresh spring water

I'd brought up from beneath the earth, spent

I got back so much knowledge and so little hope.

For those holding tools

Tend to push them inwards.

How many moments I've spent

Year after year

Wasting my breath, my lungs -

These toxins fit this feedback,

A balanced palette

All ash greys and bruised browns

The reach of my arms into the future

Now bound by

Bureaucratic scripture,

Held down by the sickness

Inescapable work, this life

I want only to truly clean

My desires so invisible

In this poisoned sea

Maybe this was intentional,

Maybe I was shown the worst

So I could accept our extinction

In these inevitable times.



🎨/📷 by John Everett Millais, Ophelia, 1851-52

Comments


bottom of page