Matthew Moniz, Hattiesburg, Mississippi, USA
a semi-found poem after the Nine Herbs Charm
for Lake Charles, hit by 2 hurricanes in 2020
I left months ago. But staying wouldn’t have helped—
guess how one man fares against the might
of this foe, squeaking one man’s words
into a hurricane, with its each launch a lash,
each lash a bludgeon, spiral arms sending
bigger and lesser at terminating velocity.
Feeling helpless is its own kind of help.
Guess how one man fares when made a meal
of mayweed as Earth’s airborne illness showed
in violent skies, the anger of risen sea ridges,
each aftermath image nettle to the heart,
breaching the seal of the past.
Glory-twigs mix with building splinters,
wires snake across streets, fennel swaps
with shingles, and the nine venoms
from the plants upon the lake burn
in the wretched calm. Time will be the sole
remedy for those who stand against pain.
Guess what any small one human can do
against the oncoming purplish reeking,
the invisible sendings of fliers, the visible
wreck of the somnambulist wake. Fathom
a fast river whirled skyward, water not washing
but punching empty homes to collapse.
They will rebuild: grow plantain, cress, crabapple.
Hope, as useful as ashes, is the only charm I have:
may the next storm not shake till I am further gone.
Matthew Moniz is a PhD student in poetry at the University of Southern Mississippi. Originally from the DC area, he holds an MFA from McNeese State University. Follow him @MattMonizPoet
