by Alex Nodopaka
Eruption
after Johan Christian Dahl, 1824
You seem unconcerned: it’s happened
before. An entire village unearthed
whole, petrified mid-sprint.
The harbor below spreads itself
to face the palette of the sky.
The mountain spews heat,
covers the sun, a smothered landscape
remaining like cinders twirling gray snow.
You bite into a peach’s flame,
juice tearing the edge of your lip,
spilling something like anger, indifference.
Civilization, you begin to say
until your mouth opens,
freeing a wall of smoke and ash.
Jared Beloff is a teacher and poet who lives in Queens, NY with his wife and two daughters. You can find his work in Contrary Magazine, Rise Up Review, The Shore, Barren Magazine and elsewhere. You can find him online at www.jaredbeloff.com. Follow him on twitter @read_instead.
Alex Nodopaka originated in Kiyv, Ukraine. Speaks San Franciscan, Parisian, Kievan, Madridian & Muscovite. Mumbles in English & sings in tongues with Vodka. Studied at the Ecole des Beaux Arts, Casablanca, Morocco. Full time author, visual artist in the USA but considers the past irrelevant and seeks new reincarnations.