Roll Sushi
by Gabe Redel
We drank compromise.
The nights that brought plans
to brilliance never undressed
bare naked for us to put
on our tongues and taste.
We pushed against the worn wagon,
its rusty axel squealing
to hook up what we
did not like but knew we should.
We go on
punching against the great earth,
stomping down the great heavens
and crying out for help.
After the angels undress
and wrap our faces
in their wings to bathe our words
from our mouths
we rise up with lies
in our hands
and markers
to redraw what the devil
had erased from his board.
And we roll sushi
and the day rises around the sun
and our eyes look around our bodies
and our minds close down
to push the wagon
of what we do not like
but know we should.