The NaPoWriMo.net prompt today called for a “rebellion” poem. At Poetic Asides, the prompt suggested taking a line from one of our poems written earlier this month, and using it as a first line for a new poem. My first line came from my Day 9 poem.
Little brain ember, taking hold:
Let’s burn this place to the ground.
I don’t think of myself as destructive.
It’s the fresh start that hooks me.
Even ground. Equality
borne of loss. We build again,
this time together.
The headlines whisper again today:
It’s all a dumpster fire, but what comes after?
It could be better.
When I was 9, and older girl from my school
set fire to her family home. Accident. No injuries.
Insurance covered everything.
We all rode past on our bikes, ogling the charred
bungalow shell. Noting how part of the roof
had completely collapsed.
Black hole on a sunny street.
Her mom’s bright pink peonies
blooming in defiance.
I always hoped she did it on purpose.
A little truth she kept warm in her chest.
A plan, all along, to call out the phoenix.