JEREMIAH
ALM No.90, June 2026
POETRY
Hiroshima Bonsai
You survived
Unaccountably
The destruction
Of a world
The rendering
Of a new
Your leaves
And branches
Spread out
Like that
Poisonous cloud.
How this all happens
Is a miracle
Years and years
Of desecration
Arms hacked off
Statues that still
Stand
Shadows
Frozen
In stone
There you are
Three-hundred years on
Still blooming
A miracle…
Jeremiah
I wish (most times) I had
A place to stay
A place away
From these crazies.
But how…?
They are (after all)
Our species…
But I hate
With all my heart
Their red assemblies
Their pyramids and churches
Their devastating wars
Over eggs
A whole history
Stretching into the future
Stretching into the past…
But then,
On the only hand,
I am addicted to irises
Telling stories
Hands that still know
How to clasp
Tears scaling
A mountainous
Razed
Column.
Yes I wish (most times)
A place away
And then someone tells me
A secret
Truth
Low Rent
I pay the gas and electric
In Hell
The phone and the Internet
As well…
Satan is my landlord
And he promises
Terrific flames every month
Flames guaranteed to burn
My tender ass.
(And then he
Puts a paw out always
Meaning
RENT.)
The sinners below me
Fight all night
While overhead
Paola and Francesca
Fuck like cats…
It’s not ideal
It never has been
I would like to live
In a gated
Heaven
But I guess I’ll just have to
Get drunk again.
Michael Walker is a writer living in Newark, Ohio. He is the author of two published books: 7-22 and The Vampire Henry. He has also seen his stories and poems published in various magazines including Sky Island Journal, PIF, and (here) at Adelaide.