Three Poems
Emma Thomas Jones
the Elkhorn mine collapsed
after a crew drilled too deep
into the earth—discovering
water. The mine filled fast
after, carrying off its workers.
the Elkhorn mine collapsed
after a crew drilled too deep
into the earth—discovering
water. The mine filled fast
after, carrying off its workers.
brutality. Sunless parade of the poor. So today,
I do not question the Reaper or its iron want. The metal giant
can try to save us from ourselves. I cannot see
an end without total destruction.
There is nowhere to run
except forward. Oh, to be a man
again and take up so much space.
For so long, I’ve scoured
thumbprints on maps, empty
corridors, boats in harbor, constellations
that refuse to navigate. Thick with shrapnel
and gutted like a shoe
without laces, I stumble, call for you
I am harboring guilt over the hundreds & hundreds
of Pokémon trapped inside of their Poke balls trapped
inside of my phone. I want to say something important
like “Pokémon is capitalism” or “Pokémon is imperialism”
or—worse—“Pokémon is slavery,” but what do I know,
what can I know. History is a box. I am looking inside.
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