Revival
Some lines seem destined for the nearest landfill
—the way my name, when I type the wrong keys,
becomes “Ant.” I feel like an ant these days,
lugging my giant crumb to some great sand-hill,
dumping it, and trudging off for more.
I wonder where my good old-fashioned brain went?
It didn’t fit my head, like the attachment
I bought second-hand for my vacuum cleaner.
You can’t do much good with a bad connection—
part A fits into part B, no exceptions,
or you’re screwed. There’s no great adapter
to plug into, turn on the juice, the power
and the glory. Forever and ever, we survive,
trying dead sockets till something sparks alive.
—Amy Lemmon
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previously published on ZinkZine, an online literary magazine.