Red Sea
I’m terrified of a number of fates,
Poisoned water under a tyrant’s wage,
Being fired for doing nothing, my parents dying,
Committing a thought like this to the page,
The splash of acid to the face
The Queens non-profit boss received
Leaving work one blue August evening. Hell’s
So eloquent and poetry’s no fate at all
Unless you count the story of the divided sea
Waiting to wash its assassins away.
Says the Pharaoh, “That’s so sad.”
But that story is less fate than news, whereas
That Queens boss? Permanently burned, the Times
Says one eye won’t stop weeping.
Copyright Credit: Daniel Poppick, "Red Sea." Copyright © 2018 by Daniel Poppick. Used by permission of the author for PoetryNow.
Source: PoetryNow (2018)