INSHALLAH

While Daniel Johnson couldn’t make it to the party this year, he happened to send an email with a poem on the very same day that we were inviting poems into the living room for P&S. The universe was clearly calling for his poetry to grace our event in some way, and so I’m reposting it here! This poem is from Daniel’s forthcoming book.

INSHALLAH

When it was over,

though it would never be over,

his mom sent a gift

to our house,

a chrome lamp and candles,

a tornado lantern

or hurricane lamp. It depends

what you call

that black wall of water,

skirling and rising,

that takes what it wants:

cars, refrigerators,

cows, wedding

photos, birth records—

inshallah—

your firstborn son.

When it was over,

though it would never be over,

as it would never be

before again, only after,

as the rains, the rains

would never be the same

rains or lashing waves—

I struck a match

against the flooding dusk,

then again,

and hung the lamp.