The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 4 | Page 23

18

Four poems by ana prundaru

Explaining Rain to an Arsonist

in the name of stepping out the

unmagical friendly fire inside

my thumbs arrange themselves

to a river, pushing steady in your

direction and the stream spreads

the smell of grass on your hair

while the sky's secrets are safe

with you, since you have no tongue

you think: death the mainstream

if you had magic, you'd be so

mainstream, but you have never

tasted kerosene, saw your eyes

shoot poison-green in their

betrayed beauty and felt the rain

drumming hard and harder in

the ditch fort of your puppet show