What Rough Beast | Poem for March 18, 2018

Devon Balwit
He says,

I would have run in even without a gun,
would have interposed my body like that coach,
like that student with his five bullets as he held
the door. Hodor. Hodor. That would have been me,
White Walkers clamoring all around, me firm
of purpose even as their blows shattered it. I
would have set myself as a seal upon the heart
for my love is strong as death, and self-love
so much more than holding up an umbrella, rain
pummeling my son’s alabaster. That sere circle
was only saving me for the next time, the way
a boxer is massaged and oiled, a stallion groomed
to glowing before the big race, every face
in the stands pendant, every damn face.

 

Devon Balwit is a writer/teacher from Portland, Oregon. Her poems of protest have appeared previously in What Rough Beast as well as in The New Verse News, Poets Reading the News, RattleRedbird Weekly Reads, Rise-Up Review, Rat’s Ass Review, The Rising Phoenix Review, Mobius, and more.

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