In a loud world, I escape, departing to something I can control,
contort, wish upon.
I daydream of a world
that cannot hurt
anyone.
One that has grown past gnashing its bombs on land, consuming forests with ember,
and now believes in peace, and only,
wholly peace.
It is underwater,
machines rust in this utopia,
neon lights of retired bars glare hazily through the salt water,
and in between skyscrapers, bloom coral reefs,
with swarms of flashing fish
that glint like gold.
Some would think this is Atlantis,
that our civilization seated in the depths of the ocean
like teeth is a fulfillment of theory.
But they would be wrong,
in my world,
this is a sentence to us humans and our “advancements,”
a sullen sedation under the blue wake of sea,
No Man’s Land.
*
Art by Runa Ricky
*
The Word Not World Series (WNW) is an interactive anthology where, once a week, I share a photo and peers give me words that inspired them. Their words inspire poetry, like this one. This poem was inspired by “neon,” by @catscratch345 (IG), “sullen,” by
, “blue,” from @angela_psalm (IG), “daydreaming,” from my mama, and “ember,” from .Thank you for your inspiration. If you would like to join in on the fun, I post the picture prompt every Saturday on Substack, and my Instagram page @enis.st.sparrow.