Rosalind Casey is a native Texan who recently survived her first winter Up North. Her poetry and prose have appeared in The Houston Chronicle, The San Antonio Express-News, and previously in Goblin Fruit. She plans on studying Medieval and Renaissance Literature, and probably living in somebody's basement.
by Rosalind Casey
Awake me when the end of time arrives;
The phones are out so ring the old doorbell,
And I'll make coffee for those who survive
The Heavens' glory and the wrath of Hell.
The monsters that emerge from Tartarus,
The bloodied splendor of the valkyries,
The charging Horsemen, all appear to us
Across the crackling screen of my TV.
The flames rise up outside the windowsill--
We watch, as through a photographic lense
That captures chaos as it reigns, until
The golden snake consumes its tail again.
Awake me and I'll put the kettle on
To boil the next new world when this one's gone.
When asked to name her favourite fruit, she said "The word 'cherry' makes me think immediately of Yeats' 'The Stolen Child.'
The phrase 'full of berries and of reddest stolen cherries" twists around in my brain whenever I think of red cherries -- stolen ones especially."
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