Tuesday, April 27, 2021

Prelude by Kiki Petrosino


You’re on a train & your ancestors are in the Quiet Car.
The Quiet Car is locked with a password you can’t decrypt.
You’re a professional password decrypter, but your ancestors are demolition experts.
You’re wearing black tactical gear & your ancestors are wearing black tactical gear.
You’re dashing through each compartment, slamming doors open, while your ancestors lay small explosives.
As heat expands within the carriage, you escape through a picture window.
You climb to the top of the train & your ancestors rappel down the sides.
You’re rappelling down one side of the train when you glimpse your ancestors above you.
They leap from carriage to carriage as if weightless, as if drifting, as if curling tongues of snow.
You cling to the side of the train as each of your ancestors lift away from you.
They float into the cloud of themselves.
In the rushing light, you perceive them as hundreds of slow snake doctors.
you begin.


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