Chandra Achberger and Amy Moffitt

Chandra Achberger
Calm Chaos
Chemigraph, 5×7 on 1970s Kodak Photo Paper
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By Amy Moffitt
Inspiration piece

All I ever see these days is the dust

and the fur, and some strands of hair,

the household mementos of our shedding

and changing, and decaying

slowly.

And all I ever do is try to address it,

the dirty dishes, the dirty laundry,

the cat shit, the ants in the hallway,

the shower mold and dropped food

and whatever else the cat has knocked over.

I look at my house and I see dirt

and dust and death and chaos

and my 44 years of beating back

against a force I’ll never defeat.

Today, our imagined dystopia is upon us

and I sit, sipping a peppery brew

that someone online said would help

writing a poem, for the first time in forever.

There is free jazz playing in the other room,

and my Frida Kahlo candle is lit.

The sky is seven shades of silver

and for the first time in a long while

I see it.

There are instruments I don’t play

and books I haven’t read

and stickers, and colored pencils

and paints, and this notebook

which I bought in Chicago

during a writers conference

eleven years ago.

It’s not my first time courting paradox,

But I can’t help but wonder

at the force of death

that is giving me life,

that has returned my crumbling house to me

as a home.

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Chandra Achberger and Amy Moffitt

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