Hell isn’t empty


it’s just off kilter. The schemers and the treacherous
marginalized to make room for the brutal, the vulgar
and the blood-simple. Here on top we adore our devils,
the ones they keep sending and the ones we engineer
ourselves. We buy them every shade of royal want,
whisper innuendo and a blessing to blackmail.
Today a squadron formation of flying contagion.
Tomorrow a centipede parade.

Selected byMaria Mazzenga
Image credit:Thomas Hawk

Sara Clancy is a Philadelphia transplant to the desert Southwest.  Her chapbook Ghost Logic won the 2017 Turtle Island Quarterly Editors Choice Award and she is an Associate Editor for Poetry at Good Works Review. Among other places, her poems have appeared in Off the Coast, The Linnet's Wings, Crab Creek Review, The Madison Review, and Verse Wisconsin. She lives in Arizona with her husband and daughter, their two dogs a cross-eyed cat and a 24 year old goldfish named Darryl.