In New Cities We Run Into No One

By ROSEBUD BEN-ONI 

& no one believes the future is horses falling
beneath ten thousand satellites & ten thousand
tombs & who in the new
cities will say through
horses of fire & phosphorous drain
that we could make the journey alone
a temple?

Why lead such horses to your graves,
when the new cities are free
from anticyclone & acid rain,

a place
without derecho & light
pillars igniting
narrow bays—

the future four legs of ice & dust
shrinking
all burned fields
& barren terrain.

Would you then bear yourself strange,

fluke & freak,
without speech &
stranded in frazil
& grease—

would you believe the last great horse is
but a blood wedding of death
& grace?

 

[Purchase Issue 15 here.]

Rosebud Ben-Oni was a recipient of the 2014 NYFA Fellowship in Poetry and a 2013 CantoMundo Fellow. Her most recent collection of poems, turn around, BRXGHT XYXS, was selected as Agape Editions’ Editors’ Choice and will be published in 2019. She is an editorial advisor for VIDA: Women in Literary Arts. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Poetry, The American Poetry Review, Tin House, Black Warrior Review, TriQuarterly, Prairie Schooner, and Arts & Letters, among other publications.

In New Cities We Run Into No One

Related Posts

heart orchids

December 2024 Poetry Feature #1: New Work from our Contributors

JEN JABAILY-BLACKBURN
What do I know / about us? One of us / was called Velvel, / little wolf. One of us / raised horses. Someone / was in grain. Six sisters / threw potatoes across / a river in Pennsylvania. / Once at a fair, I met / a horse performing / simple equations / with large dice. / Sure, it was a trick, / but being charmed / costs so little.

November 2024 Poetry Feature: New Work from our Contributors

G. C. WALDREP
I am listening to the slickened sound of the new / wind. It is a true thing. Or, it is true in its falseness. / It is the stuff against which matter’s music breaks. / Mural of the natural, a complicity epic. / The shoals, not quite distant enough to unhear— / Not at all like a war. Or, like a war, in passage, / a friction of consequence.

Caroline M. Mar Headshot

Waters of Reclamation: Raychelle Heath Interviews Caroline M. Mar

CAROLINE M. MAR
That's a reconciliation that I'm often grappling with, which is about positionality. What am I responsible for? What's coming up for me; who am I in all of this? How can I be my authentic self and also how do I maybe take some responsibility?