Alumna Rebecca Foust’s (poetry, ’10) poems, “Click,” “Dark Ecology,” “spec house foundation cut into hillside,” “Rebuke,” and “To N., Serving Curried Rice for Food-Not-Bombs,” appear online in Mudlark Flash:
Click
Your cat curled at the door, tongue like a dark liver thrust through her teeth, poisoned by eating a mouse that had eaten d-CON, click—your son’s testicular lump overnight has tripled-in-size—whirr-click. The kid who tossed your morning paper? Blown up, his third tour in Iraq, and what is that click- whirr-click, like-a-dry-insect sound? Where the world was intact now grins a wound, there’s a hole in the hull and you list. Click-whir-click—below your feet, fracked bedrock shifts. Click—the pixels pull in—whirr-click. Now you can see them resolve, the pixeled years, inside the framed sum of your fears. He’s come. There’s a boy in the hall with a Glock and crossed bandoliers.
