Part VIII

All matter of hell broke loose;
my exuberance and the intoxicating effect
of being in the poppy field led to detonation…
the battlefield,
red in poppy grandeur,
red from pools of blood
from people like me who sought to feel its effects,
not paying attention to the fact that all the red
wasn’t just flower pedals.

congealed,
soaking in my own red-eye gravy,
delirious, unclear, inebriated,
all states of being that bring danger.

– Michellia D. Wilson 8/23/14 3:00 PM