Ideology

Punched me moon-pocked.
Capsuled me captured.
Wounded me wendigo—

burnt animal
offal for a cold
and future God.

Hailed me a cab.
Bought me a dress.
Told me One Truth,

which turned
out to be one truth,
amiss. I flailed.

Suffered nightmares.
Once, a box of mints
was offered. Green

or pink like my tongue.
I tried one. Numinous
text appeared, each letter

a tooth. A bridge,
wood paneled and roofed,
spanned a snowy void.

I was blind. Or
blizzarded. Terror
shook my hand. Forward,

I bored into timber
like a worm-
hole eating light.

Across, the Human lived.
Rightward, the wall
looked giving—then gave.

Nothing! Oblivion,
white depths, a long fall
into loss. Bitter air

bit my eyes. I cleaved
left, my only chance.
Advanced, halved—the price.

____
Stephanie Yue Duhem lives in Austin, TX. Her book Cataclysm Moves Me I Regret to Say is available from House Of Vlad Press.