Ghost Factory
At the ghost factory no one breathed,
made mistakes. Workers ripped spirits
out of the bodies, putting them
on a conveyor belt to be delivered
to haunted houses around the world.
They didn’t question their work.
Paid in gold coins to place on their eyes,
they’d easily cross the murky river
with the boatman’s help. No being
stranded on shore, shivering in darkness.
Their feet wouldn’t get wet. None
of them would be flooded by forgetfulness.
They’d remember what happened
even when they didn’t wish to.
I didn't mean to be an enemy.
To force you to wave a white flag
over your cubicle, to crawl on
your hands and knees to my office.
Or make you give me your lunch
from the fridge, an egg salad
sandwich and a deli pickle,
watch me eat every last bite.
I didn't want reparations for our war,
a coffee from Starbucks each morning,
a sweet cinnamon roll on the side.
In my life I would've been happy
never knowing you, plunging
through the office, my friendly sea
with not one shark. Then you set
your fangs on me, took a chunk
of hide with your insult at the meeting,
implying I was useless as a floppy disk.
Now you're realizing how wrong
you are, as I take your assignments,
strip you of worth. You slump over
your desk, fated to mediocrity,
while I'm the one remembered
in history, awards, certificates,
falling in my lap. A big promotion
on the horizon, land I will conquer.
Shake hands.
Then stab one another.
Drink milk.
Turn the ocean red.
Give him five.
Three-hundred.
Gather broken fingers.
Stick them back
together with paste.
Find each other's
bodies in dreams.
Try to awaken them.
Or make them disappear.
Here they are
as constellations.
Here they are,
surrounded by chalk.
Both give light.
Both hurt the darkness.
Let wounds talk, too.
How accurate the blade,
how reckless the cut.
They have mouths
that won't give in.
Shake feet,
however impossible.
Wallop one another
with a hammer.
Drink milk.
Change the ocean.
Change it to green.
Donald Illich has published poetry in journals such as The Iowa Review, Fourteen Hills, and Cold Mountain Review. He won Honorable Mention in the Washington Prize book contest. He recently published a book, Chance Bodies (The Word Works, 2018).