The Lifesaver

by L. S. KLATT
 

The lifesaver found himself on a fire escape reading
a set of instructions. Step 1 directed him to match
the conflagration in his mind with a facsimile
that appeared in a diagram on the page.
That much was obvious, but Step 2 required careful
application: facing the riot & attempting to
extinguish it. This was complicated by the reality
that before him were hoses, claws, rakes, hooks, & wrenches—tools
which, it seemed, had something to do with firefighting.
What the volunteer had envisioned was a collapsed barn
in the middle of a swale, horses trampling a stand of green
rushes, a canoe overturned waterside. Below
him, however, being lobbed from the street, Molotov cocktails
troubled the semblance. Yet he continued to fancy
panicked mares fleeing the imaginary barn as it erupted
into blaze. The rushes added a dreaminess. To his
way of thinking, the fugitives represented
a roving ardor bereft of wisdom. Fair enough.
The rest of his company worked just out of sight; the truth
of the occupied city block was new to the lifesaver.

 

[Purchase Issue 14 here.]

L. S. Klatt‘s poems have appeared or will appear in Surface, Copper Nickel, Sycamore Review, the Kenyon Review Online, Denver Quarterly, and Bateau. His fourth book, a collection of prose poems entitled The Wilderness After Which, came out from Otis Books (Seismicity Editions) in 2017.

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

The Lifesaver

Related Posts

top 10 pieces 2025

The Most-Read Pieces of 2025

Browse a list of the ten most-read new pieces of 2025 to get a taste of what left an impact on readers. 2025 was a momentous year for The Common: our fifteenth anniversary, our 30th issue, even a major motion picture based on a story in the magazine.

The Ground That Walks

ALAA ALQAISI
We stepped out with our eyes uncovered. / Gaza kept looking through them— / green tanks asleep on roofs, a stubborn gull, / water heavy with scales at dawn. // Nothing in us chose the hinges to slacken. / The latch turned without our hands. / Papers practiced the border’s breath.