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  • Writer's pictureLammergeier Staff

A Fire Speaks Proudly of its Burning | Amanda Emilio

I have seen,

while standing in the tall grass,

the earth’s haggard turning

as if I, a speck forgotten,

sat abandoned on a swivel table

the child with her giant’s hand

gleaming, beaming, sunny patches on

her cheeks spinning the ground as her

permission grants her so she laughs at

such freedom, pouring into the green

with it, a loveless humming so the field

is rock, now smoother stone.

I have seen

the earth cease altogether,

null and not 

rigid as fish bone, grain and crust

tolling the hours on some misting beach

hair and breath with no wind to lift them,

a still house with darkness a lost dog,

scavenging the night with prowls long,

deranged, no whistles or air swept with

singing, the heavy horns of enemies

mounted on a wall, adorned escapes with

dreams of narrow; sleepers of the kill.

Heat-ticks writhing in marrow, under the hulls

with pulse and grit, wood and glass heaving, mortar-soaked,


I have seen the battering ram,

the last wolf’s hollow howl,

seen strange beasts curl,

their weight, armored strength God-willed,

suffer, shudder, fetal and pinned; natal spheres.

The awful order, existing to be mismanaged, and I,

holding no water

can hardly be expected to flee from it. 

Amanda Emilio is a musician and poet from Long Island, NY. Her work appears in places such as The Janus Journal, Amethyst Review, Beyond Words Magazine and elsewhere.

Instagram: @sun_spotsss



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