Final Exam

by Donna Vatnick, Contributor

Throw down the notebooks, the pencils, the hole punchers
And fill the voids with whirlpools for eyes and pianos for ears.
Let the brainfeed shatter into edges of mirror
And drag the splinters like razors across a sea of ethanol.
To leap out, to dream, with a handful of spheres
Concentrated to their cores like plum
Striking pit before the flavor of infrared saturates the blood.
Throw down the papers and books, for a moment to feel
Air like needle caressed with care after melting metal
Carves faces into corners like canvas.
Throw down or else the throats of birds croak from absence
And ripples of puddles freeze before notice.
Trapped between the pressure of four walls closing in,
Forces that can’t stop the world from seeping in,
Throw down the damn books and touch the colors dissolving
Between the cracks; crawling from under the angles.
Throw down the damn papers and maybe you’ll actually learn something.


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LANDFILLS is a grassroots literary, arts and culture online collective based in Chicago. All work is original, except the featured images that accompany text posts (which are blatantly stolen from Complaints should be directed to Po via Twitter.
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