by David Radavich
What do we not talk about?
What do we not say,
now that every dark night
can be electrified,
every moon traveled to
flagged and revisited,
every bomb blows white as sun
what we most feared, dispossessed
as if it had never
seen into our fear and called
forth our furious
dance of righteousness—
What can we not say,
now that we’re so cornered
with ourselves,
so sure of soft footing
that our shoes will find
the path that was hidden, eyes
will flutter, believing
all shadows have been lost—
while in the dark forest
words run from us
with fear in their eyes
like refugees
David Radavich's poetry publications include Slain Species (Court Poetry Press, London), By the Way (Buttonwood Press, 1998), and Great Hits (Pudding House Press, 2000), as well as individual poems in anthologies and magazines. His plays have been performed across the U.S. and abroad, including five Off-Off-Broadway productions. He also enjoys writing essays on poetry, drama, and contemporary issues.
