I had a friend
who revolved
when tornadoes
touched down.
He’d stand outside
& spin around like
kids do when they
want to lose track.
I said you can’t
be serious,
but nothing
he owned was
ever lost, & his
reasoning was
sound: a disaster
wouldn’t take one
of its own, right?
Sometimes I try
this sort of faith,
imitate everything
I worry may erase
me. I’m beginning
to believe even
the towering
whatever ripping
up our future is
only imitating
something else.
Chad Foret is a PhD candidate in poetry at the University of Southern Mississippi where he assists in the publication of the Robert Frost Review and teaches composition. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Louisiana Literature, The Midwest Quarerly, Rabbit Catastrophe, the anthology Down to the Dark River, and elsewhere, and was selected as a finalist for the 2017 Tennessee Williams Fest Poetry Award and 2017 Real Good Poem Prize.