Poetry of Love, Resistance, & Solidarity

She spent her adult days

worrying about the inevitable:

earthquakes in L.A.,

stacking escape clothes

by her bedside in case

she had to make a run for it

in the middle of a dream,

or pursued by New York thugs

out to steal her innocence…

and variations on that theme.

In Mid-America where she

rejoiced from lack of stress,

her mind and limbs

relaxed enough to avoid

the muscle cramps she suffered

in L.A. and NYC. She forgot

about the bedside clothes

double locks, and being alert

and ready to avert disaster.

And so she was taken by

complete surprise when

in the middle of a placid dream,

a tornado lit down on the roof

of her house and whisked away

all her cares, leaving her

naked and alone in a field

where her house had stood,

in full view of the moon

shining overhead and

on both coasts simultaneously.

— Gloria Vando


Comments on: "146. Disaster (Or Bum Rap)" (1)

  1. Rick Nichols said:

    Surely somewhere over the rainbow Dorothy must be smiling in a demented sort of way, as the tornado “theme” is alive and well in Kansas-related poems this year. And no doubt most, if not all, of the poems that include the word “tornado” were submitted for consideration prior to May 22. It’s creepy to say the least.

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