hurricane florence

you: mother
a fury, splitting marrow
premeditation written in the
stripped naked
in the wild night
if you’re not breaking ribs
then you’re churning the waters
a paper cut in
the rising pressure
begging benediction
confirmation that
there’s something here worth
dying for—tell me, what have we done
to deserve this?
temporal mother
exhaling rain like disappointment
if the sky had a
phantom limb i swear it would
be me but instead
this southern migration
without return
if you’re not breaking ribs
then never mind the dishes
the e minor depression carving
initials in the dock posts where
i’ve never felt so much like
soft mother of
cultivation, promises sewn into the
wounds she tears
raw hope; a grey dawn
addressed to you
water bugs pepper the surface
of this muddy swell,
catfish inquiring after the body,
not yet tucked in
to the dark mud beds
if you’re not breaking ribs,
how long ‘til you
come for us?
hungry mother
overturning tables & slamming doors
atlantic drunk & prone
to violence
this your birthright: denied,
left to someone else with
your name, watching
the water climb your stairs on channel nine
baby are you sorry yet
or need she stay longer?
the speedometer pushes red &
still we roar back, oh
if you’re not breaking ribs
then you’re not doing it right

d. drobnick is an amateur poet whose poetry has been previously published in Bone & Ink Press. she hails from a city she plans on leaving, somewhere hot & grief-saturated. her work can be found at