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All the bottles empty
by Meghan HelmichUnravelling,
I am taking my own life
and tying it to an oil rig in the Atlantic
churning past the shipwrecks
and into the cold mountains below the angler fish,
electric eels and their shark nests.
I ride the blossoming plume when they strike
it, rich and slippery, eating everything with eyes.
On the surface, I am nothing
but a tar-dipped cork
holding nothing back anymore. 12/16/2011 Posted on 12/16/2011
Copyright © 2025 Meghan Helmich
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Sal Haefling on 12/16/11 at 10:13 PM That last stanza seems like you've got something going on there. It seems so motivating like something is about to happen, possibly something good...? |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 12/18/11 at 12:17 PM There's a message in those empty bottles, and it's slick with imagery -- oil wells that end swell :>) |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/19/11 at 04:42 AM God, did that last stanza make my heart stop. |
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