Fabrice B Poussin

Homeless in 2031

What a hardship it may be to carry 
those wrinkles to the unavoidable hyper store 
delaying the age of walking devices 
to assist with steel when the flesh fails. 
Practice makes perfect when one goes alone 
decades with the leather gloves deep 
in worn out jean pockets 
a frown made for an ancient bronze. 
She sees the masses passing in a blur for 
they have not yet learned the art of a slow dance 
to prepare for the ultimate waltz with the stars 
to them the quest for processed lives matters most. 
Hands on an old quilt, repository of dynasties 
she still sits on the front porch as 
the paint peels and flies with the breeze 
no one greets her in this deserted land. 
Her thoughts are secret now, her eyes 
fixed onto a miracle only she can discern 
beyond the thinning envelope of her past 
there seems to be little to anchor this old soul. 
Her suitcases are packed, piled in the dark corridor 
her destination mysterious as it is certain 
she will leave little behind but a shell of a house 
carcass to be erased as if it had been built for ghosts. 

Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.