SONIA GREENFIELD


Ghost Ship

Image

I have been that young, that electrified

by the bohemian scene of a city spilling its lights

all around me. I have been to parties

in sketchy spaces where painters have work

on the walls that should be seen by millions

but is seen by the few of us figuring out

who we’re going to fuck after too much cheap wine

drunk from plastic tumblers, figuring out

how we’re going to make it a country’s width away

from families, struck out on our own

like explorers getting comfortable with being alone

in a wilderness that is actually just a room

rented in a house of strangers. I have been

that woman high on E, my eyes doll-dark, jaw

clenched, body ready to swallow pleasure

in a million lusty gulps. I know any space we inhabit

can become a ghost ship. I have read enough

to know stories of wildfires, of boats found

empty, of the soul yanked whole cloth from

its innocent wearer. But you can’t live in fear

of the apparition, the adventurers afloat on

their rickety structure and cast to a sea

of flames. It can happen at any time to anyone,

so when music flares up and takes a hold of you,

when a swirl of colored spotlights sets you

spinning, you have to dance as if

the very act of living depends on it.

from Rattle