"Lullaby for Emergencies" by Jennifer Bradpiece
Lullaby for Emergencies
A siren splits the night
like a diver unfolds through water
in a still pond.
Like no siren ever divided silence before.
Like the drink in my hand tickles my throat
and scatters my thoughts, like a shooter marble.
Below me, little things grow
between concrete slabs
Sad potted plants dangle off
Some reach a vine upwards
in vain. Others shrug in despair.
From somewhere up above me,
the siren cries out:
one sharp glowing ring-shaped punch
to the straight slate line of night sky.
Jennifer Bradpiece was born and raised in the multifaceted muse, Los Angeles, where she still resides. She remains active in the Los Angeles writing and art scene. Jennifer has interned at Beyond Baroque and often collaborates with multi-media artists on projects. Her poetry has been published in various anthologies, journals, and online zines, including Redactions, Mush Mum, and Common Ground Review. She has poetry forthcoming in The Ekphrastic Review, Stimulus Respond, and Bacopa Literary Review, among others. In 2016, Jennifer's manuscript, Lullabies for End Times, was acknowledged as one of the final ten favorites in the Paper Nautilus Debut Series Chapbook Contest.
Photo Credit: Weichun Chen