Nothing Changes, Not Ever
after Mark Eitzel's
"Mission Rock Resort"
Light rain is my curtain, my barrier
against the crowd. Order another drink
for appearance's sake. I watch grown men hug
and sigh out hope. Two months ago I did
the same damn thing—and a month before that
and six weeks before that—and the circle
never closes. Rocks spin up and down
hills
in mundane symphonies. I lay my palms
in mundane symphonies. I lay my palms
flat on the table and feel this future
rushing underneath, flashing past me, not
mine to accept. Order another drink
for appearance's sake. I could have said
words to affect change but didn't, and
look
what's happening now. End of the season,
what's happening now. End of the season,
story lines wrapping up in neat little
bows. One minute you're in arms reach and then
you're week-old newspaper falling apart
in the street, headlines and trash together
at long
last. Light rain is my curtain,
my barrier against the crowd. Order
my barrier against the crowd. Order
another drink for appearance's sake.
I Continue to Refuse the Role I am Given
I am tasked with telling a story,
hiding a story, breathing a story
for which I am not the intended
recipient. I did not choose—story
sought me out, called me up, whispered
as I went about my business.
Never tell me that I self-selected.
It is a lie. Narratives shifting
to match me are never coincidental.
I stayed alive while all else died.
An angel and a demon sit with me.
The angel forgives with her eyelashes.
The demon never speaks.
Josette Torres received her MFA in Creative Writing from Virginia Tech in 2010.
She also holds a BA in English and Creative Writing from Purdue University. Her
work has appeared in The New Verse News,
SLAM: Silhouette Literary and Arts Magazine, Emerge Literary Journal, and
16 Blocks and is forthcoming in Ayris. She is the Writer in
Residence at The Lyric Theatre in Blacksburg, Virginia.
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