there is war in my head —
no romanticized
valorous triumph
just terror and violence
and no place to go home to,
nowhere to rest my head;
within the noise
I search for words
to carve meaning
from darkness
but i am lost,
wearied by the night


My thoughts are goblins,
my thoughts are gorgeous,
and sometimes they go
where I cannot follow,
shrouded in a language
hidden from me —


the past is cool rain
in which children play,
the present a fog
that disorientates
to a fictional future,
darkly unknown
or unreal till the story
we write is our own

2 thoughts on “Three Poems by Connor Orrico

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s