Vox Populi
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Deborah Bogen: Rue Saint-Séverin
Dirt and hunger. Foreheads burnt, no, branded by heat. Backpacks. Paper cups. Bundles that are everything we own. Beneath the gargoyles, our babies sleep.
We used to have houses. Once we had windows. Now we live at the edge of the world where sometimes at night the Shade lifts his blade. Still, we must rest. We must sleep. We turn away, tucking ourselves into our skin, ignoring the feet that pass.
And no one stops. No one says these stones are not pillows. What prophecy hides in the blur of our breathing? Something is here. And something is coming.
—
Copyright 2015 Deborah Bogen
[Author’s note: This is one of two prose poems that were recently hung on the wall in an Art Show (Chroniques) in Paris. The show pairs painters and writers. They asked us to give them something on “what people would rather not think about.”]
— Deborah Bogen
Vox Populi 
This is absolutely beautiful in wake of all the recent events in Paris but also well placed for any human suffering. I especially loved the words, “No one says these stones are not pillows”…says so much in so little…
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Ryan, maybe you could write of your most personal responses to the terrible thing that has happened in Paris.YES!!that would be so wonderful, and so important. Interview of me by Julia Doughtyhttp://www.sharondoubiago.com/blog.htm?post=1001628 From: Vox Populi To: sharondoubiago@yahoo.com Sent: Tuesday, November 17, 2015 2:00 AM Subject: [New post] Deborah Bogen: Rue Saint-Séverin #yiv9740753898 a:hover {color:red;}#yiv9740753898 a {text-decoration:none;color:#0088cc;}#yiv9740753898 a.yiv9740753898primaryactionlink:link, #yiv9740753898 a.yiv9740753898primaryactionlink:visited {background-color:#2585B2;color:#fff;}#yiv9740753898 a.yiv9740753898primaryactionlink:hover, #yiv9740753898 a.yiv9740753898primaryactionlink:active {background-color:#11729E;color:#fff;}#yiv9740753898 WordPress.com | Vox Populi posted: “Dirt and hunger. Foreheads burnt, no, branded by heat. Backpacks. Paper cups. Bundles that are everything we own. Beneath the gargoyles, our babies sleep.We used to have houses. Once we had windows. Now we live at the edge of the world where sometimes” | |
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Beautiful words. Beautiful photo. Congratulations.
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