by Karen Walker
she stands in the afterward
a girl of ten will drag her cart
loaded with books and the stained doll
asking who will fill the shoes of those who lie
here now by the hundreds, laid out in spiral
of death, the investor, the politician, the domino queen
guilty only of narcissism, avarice, gall and glaucoma
of clinging to the status quo
innocents who craved too much
who will stand in their stead
she will ask, her dark curls bob
in the low smoke in the ash of war
the bell on the hill will toll
but without mettle four clangs vibrate
with the anxiety of clouded sight
no one comes to stand beside her
there will be no speeches to comfort or elaborate
no loud speakers, no fanfare, no monologue
and the foul beast who watches them from below the light
will skulk to the south dragging his prey
in lathered jaws until his shade at last has waned
Corbett Buchly’s poems have appeared in more than 35 different journals, including, Rio Grande Review, Plainsongs, Black Manifold, SLAB, and Barrow Street. He is an alumnus of Texas Christian University and the professional writing program at the University of Southern California. He resides in Northeast Texas with his wife and two sons. You can read his blog at buchly.com, and you can follow him on social media at instagram.com/cbuchly, facebook.com/CorbettBuchly, and x.com/WordsAreMessy.
Karen Walker draws and writes in Ontario, Canada. Her work is in/forthcoming in Stanchion, Weird Lit, NUNUM, The Imagist Literary Magazine, coalitionworks, and Wallstrait. @kawalker.bsky.social.