Monday, February 13, 2012

the forest fierce

the forest fierce
a poem by Troy Cady and Alyssa Bustamante
in memory of Elizabeth Olten, nine years old

"It was ahmazing," she wrote.

the forest fierce pierces
breast, chest and lungs
vines lunge at her throat
sticks plunge plunge
the knife
strife takes a life young
as one
past midnight

It was ahmazing. As soon as you get over the
‘ohmygawd I can’t do this’ feeling,
it’s pretty enjoyable.

but nine days old
flung as a nested bird
but one ear heard
bleak chirps
from the dirt
for help me God

Miss Ouri was fifteen,
kinda nervous and shaky now
after the ‘ohmygawd I can’t do this’ feeling
passed. Penance was just the thing.
Go to church with those death-diseased eyes, Miss Ouri.

If I could give my life to bring her back, I would.

But “Nine, come play with me
among the fierce trees.”

No one hears
but the sharp branches
taking all chances
and the vines
strangling life-signs.
No one sees but God
and the grieving leaves,
fallen as tears,
piled atop the fearless
now bloodied.

Cover-up her body
in the fragile leaves
as premeditated killers
predecide to lie in church.

Pretend autumn trees can become unshed
and relive a prior spring.

Go bargain hunting in the king’s court.
Score a deal
three years since
for a lesser sentence
with only one
conjugated verb.

Let the diseased tree stand
with blood on her hands.

We are Miss Ouri.

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