Maybe That Was Tomorrow
By Athene Grele
1. She is writing a poem about writing a poem about
writing a poem about writing a poem. She didn’t know
she could do that. She tried, once. Or maybe she didn’t.
Maybe that was tomorrow. Does it matter?
2. She writes letters made of slithering worms. They
crawl into words and link into sentences, necklaces of
verses she wears about her neck like a collar, a warning,
maybe. Or maybe not.
3. Are words her slaves or is she slave to the words? Does
4. She has been told her verses conjure up beautiful
paintings in the empty fields of the mind. She says
they are not her words. She did not think them. They
came unbidden onto the page like an infant, squalling,
crawling back into its mother. Or like Brahma, born
from Vishnu’s navel, spontaneous.
5. She writes a poem about writing a poem about writing
a poem about writing a poem about writing a poem. Or
maybe not. Maybe that was tomorrow, or yesterday,
or never. Does it matter?
Athene Grele is a teen writer living with three cats and two stuffed penguins. She writes poetry and short stories and is trying to write a novel. She wants to make a living on her writing, though she acknowledges the fact that it may be difficult. Athene won third place in a short story contest held by Jelly Paint Literary magazine (now The Absynthe Muse Review ).