The Wind Riders

Image borrowed from Yahoo

The Wind Riders

1.
The wind blew steadily for three days before they came.
The power had been out since the first day from downed
trees. The water was out because the pump was electric.
We were pissing in the back yard, shitting in someone's
child's potty found in the attic. What we missed the most
was status updates. They came in hard, rocking the house
on its rotting foundations. Everything had already been
stripped from the walls, so there was nothing left to fall
but our hopes. They entered through the broken windows,
twirling in the dust that never rested. We threw the

remnants of our food at them, cowards that they were,

but they weren't looking for food. They were looking for

adoration, blind obedience, worthwhile coupons to

respectable establishments. They were looking for things

we could never understand. So we gave them cash.

They went through all our clothes, but refused even our

brightest socks. They sat on our couch, which made no

sense since TV was dead. They complained about

America, and its need for hats, the necessity of dry
hands in effective business introductions. The

syntactical structures of their whines were strange

and complex. Their shrill voices pierced our ears like

hot pins. When they left, they took only our

complacency, and some change from the bowl by

the door.

2.

The wind blew steadily for three days
before they came.
The power had been out since the first day
from downed trees.
The water was out because the pump was electric.
We were pissing in the back yard,
shitting in someone's child's potty found in the attic.
What we missed the most was status updates.
They came in hard, rocking the house
on its rotting foundations.
Everything had already been stripped from the walls,
so there was nothing left to fall
but our hopes.
They entered through the broken windows,
twirling in the dust that never rested.
We threw the remnants of our food at them,
cowards that they were, but they weren't
looking for food.
They were looking for adoration, blind obedience,
worthwhile coupons to respectable establishments.
They were looking for things we could never understand.
So we gave them cash.
They went through all our clothes,
but refused even our brightest socks.
They sat on our couch,
which made no sense since TV was dead.
They complained about America,
and its need for hats, the necessity of dry
hands in effective business introductions.
The syntactical structures of their whines
were strange and complex.
Their shrill voices pierced our ears like hot pins.
When they left, they took only our complacency,
and some change from the bowl by the door.

C.L. Bledsoe

Posted over on Jelly Roll Magazine
1. Cortney's fabulous prose poem.
2. Line breaks by Glenn Buttkus