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Moran Against the Chinook

Then Moran ordered the Colman block
to be blown up as a sacrifice to Disaster.
All along Cherry Street, citizens gawk
at the destruction as the fires churn faster
and faster. By four o’clock in the afternoon,
smoke chokes the streets. Cinders strewn
by the wind flew through the air like devils
after catastrophe; emerging from their hovels
on Yesler Way, whores took a quick look,
shrugged, and went back to the daily grind.
By this time, most Seattleites were resigned
to destruction, some thinking, like Chinook
and the Yesler gals, it’d be better to spawn
and die. Not Moran, muttering, “Game on!”

Comments

  1. Angelico Nguyen, Esq., OP says:

    Hits the same good balance between informality and structure as ‘Murphy’s Distress’, and adds a touch of mythic struggle like ‘Götterdämmerung!’ Not to mention a very bold analogy, and the trademark Korrektiv wordplay. Me likey!

    Also, you all have Kollektively built the poem’s Moran into a very worthy hero. I love the last line here.

  2. Quin Finnegan says:

    Thanks, Angelico!

  3. Jonathan Potter says:

    I love this, too. The rhythms move very fire-like and the final couplet kicks ass, beautifully.

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