Cara Benson

Cara Benson

And when we woke we heard the sound of the drum. It was there in our sleep and we dreamed an alarm clock. Or the buzzer on the dryer. A garbage truck backing up or lifting.

And the drum.

We walked toward it and found the drum it did not stop. We walked and we surrounded the drum. We around the drum and the pounding and the rage. Someone wondered what could possibly come of this drum. Of this sound. Others, too, were thinking and emotion. Sensation.

And we knew we could not stop. We knew we could not stop but we could rest so long as we did not sleep. One could pause or retreat when needed. We knew we could do this and return. Or knew that in non-temporal ways we had not left. Another stood on something to speak. Do not forget. Let us not surrender to them. We do not want them to be them. What choice did we have and when?

We used the facilities after purchasing an item. We rushed through our business. There was a syncopation to this that dysrhythmic punctuation did not yet interrupt. too easy to say once upon a time

We put these sentences in the air.

              m                .
                        th                of
                equi                O                          pe
         gh  R                           e
              V        nce                  …
and  o         s                                t
      y                 l        di             p              le 
                !!                                        W
able              ST                f
N                                u t  i
e a                                  H    d


Cara Benson is the author of (made) and the forthcoming “Funny. Considering how heated it was.” A 2011 NYFA Fellow in Poetry, she teaches poetry in a NY State Prison.

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