Salvation Hill | wisconsinacademy.org
Your shopping cart is empty.

Share

Salvation Hill

I never knew why you waxed gravestones.

I remember you young with pigtails.

Then it started raining in the middle of August

And everything that could scream was steaming.

The wax melts, and looks like tears.

You never got around to the Veterans Cemetery,

Salvation Hill.

They all died with tears in their eyes

Thoughts of home in their heads.

(I’m not sure of the jurisdiction

Regarding graveyards for patriots,

But they probably thought of the same fields

You drove past to school every day.)

Up on Salvation Hill

They don’t need your saving.

God’s got to do something,

After ignoring you in Catholic school

All those years.

When heroin attacks your brain

The eyes bulge and tear ducts are choked.

This leads to watering eyes, but it’s not crying.

That’s an important distinction.

I’ll go down to my firepit,

Melt a dozen yankee candles,

(Vanilla, something universal,

Your preferences have been

Evading me, and even your face

Has left me it seems.)

Paint the tears you were cheated of,

After every summer rain.

Contributors

Pete Koz is poet from small town Wisconsin. He spends his time toeing a happy medium with the northwoods. His work has previously been published in The Midwest Review and Oracle Bone.

 

Contact Us
contact@wisconsinacademy.org

Follow Us
FacebookTwitterInstagram

Wisconsin Academy Offices 
1922 University Avenue
Madison, Wisconsin 53726
Phone: 608.733.6633

 

James Watrous Gallery of the Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts & Letters
3rd Floor, Overture Center for the Arts
201 State Street
Madison, WI 53703
Phone: 608.733.6633 x25