How to Paint in the Dark
After the hurricane took away our electricity
we open the curtains, sit at the kitchen table
pull out acrylic paint, brushes and canvas.
There are crickets chirping and it is daytime.
I overhear the neighbors to the left of us
discussing the possibility of meat going bad,
pounds and pounds of venison and pork chops.
They will grill it all and invite family over.
Our neighbor, to the right, talks about losing
a bid for a job; this is the third consecutive time;
he just can’t charge any less. He has to pay for
insurance. Now this, the high winds blowing off
shingles, flood waters engulfing cars, seeping
through foundations, collecting and sitting
stagnant, growing foul. Our neighbor behind us
is beating his dog because his wife left him.
My daughter looks out windows; she wants
to see thunder. As soon as I tell her that you can
only hear it, she looks defeated. I wonder why
humans steal each other’s faith. The dog cowers
in the bushes that separate our yards and I know
even if our phone worked, I wouldn’t call the police.
Rebecca Schumejda is the author of Falling Forward, a full-length collection of poems (sunnyoutside, 2009); The Map of Our Garden (verve bath, 2009); Dream Big Work Harder (sunnyoutside press 2006); And a forthcoming collection Cadillac Men, (NYQ Books, October 2012) www.rebeccaschumejda.com
After the hurricane took away our electricity
we open the curtains, sit at the kitchen table
pull out acrylic paint, brushes and canvas.
There are crickets chirping and it is daytime.
I overhear the neighbors to the left of us
discussing the possibility of meat going bad,
pounds and pounds of venison and pork chops.
They will grill it all and invite family over.
Our neighbor, to the right, talks about losing
a bid for a job; this is the third consecutive time;
he just can’t charge any less. He has to pay for
insurance. Now this, the high winds blowing off
shingles, flood waters engulfing cars, seeping
through foundations, collecting and sitting
stagnant, growing foul. Our neighbor behind us
is beating his dog because his wife left him.
My daughter looks out windows; she wants
to see thunder. As soon as I tell her that you can
only hear it, she looks defeated. I wonder why
humans steal each other’s faith. The dog cowers
in the bushes that separate our yards and I know
even if our phone worked, I wouldn’t call the police.
Rebecca Schumejda is the author of Falling Forward, a full-length collection of poems (sunnyoutside, 2009); The Map of Our Garden (verve bath, 2009); Dream Big Work Harder (sunnyoutside press 2006); And a forthcoming collection Cadillac Men, (NYQ Books, October 2012) www.rebeccaschumejda.com
