After the Flood
We took with us
things immediate:
dog leash by the door,
overripe bananas,
fresh underwear folded
in the basket by the stairs.
it was not enough. We
wrung our hands nightly,
hundreds of miles away.
Word of mouth birthed
new rivers within us.
All washed clean. We wait
for the river water to stop
being greedy. Lifetimes.
What will they say, our
descendants, when our home
reemerges, when the water
recedes, of our chipped
pho bowls, the blown glass
bong? Will they know the love
we shared? Our record player,
clammed shut. Still spinning
Fats Domino.
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