WRECKONING by Amanda Parker


The mourning after the blast
I went down alone
to say a bad bye
to my childhood friend.
I spent an hour or two there
and saw porpoises
breaching into the wind

She said:
There is no word
but loss,
and not enough for me
I´m older than you
can comprehend
I have seen

I felt so small. The sea
could swallow me
like all the gasping sailors
in a fit of revenge and rage.

The sun started burning.
I left, walking, but

Next to me on the road,
two feet away, a Hummer
buzzed past my body.
the license plate screamed.

I was furious, then
curious about
my own hypocrisy.

After all.

I´ve enjoyed coffee from
Ethiopia, with tears
and sweat
in my morning cup.
I´ve worn clothes made
in China,
in cities so polluted
the babies are born
with lead in the brain.

(who knows why
we do what we do.)

I went home and drank
tequila, from some place
in Mexico,
and packed for my plane
to Peru,

I drank, and slapped
myself around hard,
and blaming myself

I could feel her vibrate
beneath my
air conditioned house
berating me, as

I paced around,
only to crash with
about black holes
in the sea,
sucking me in,

There is no word
but loss.


Amanda Parker is the Media Outreach Director for Save Our Shores! Florida, a statewide nonprofit organization. In her spare time she enjoys magical realism and exploring our natural world. She currently resides in Panacea, Florida, with her husband and two cats.

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