Two Poems

We Will All Have to Die on the Internet

When it happens & you
have no notification
that ever you drove

my heart to the deep, 
it’ll be a challenge to retrieve
all that data. But there is

the measurable, 
and then there is
what really happens.

A dreaming drone
falls into the sea, a buzz
accompanies our every

solemnity. I imagine
Death brings bas-relief,
as in, my heart 

will stand out against
digital tribute, face you
as my shoulders never did.

Then the everlasting 
restart, the flickering
window, the freeze-

frame, and all because
my Love has been 
tracking to last.

Sonnet for Walter White

Ascension happens in a host of ways:
post-op, hungover, splitting from the Law,
or grim and cashing in on threadbare days
to raise a new mood, relevant and raw.
The turnover begins in the dead night,
when you have sense and miracles to spare
but choose to spare them, hold still, and make light
of darkness, thick as thieves and lean as air.
And while you groom your sacrifice and hope
to trim ionic chaos to your will,
Memory turns to Murder, develops
its own trademark and molecules, until
one casual inscription is enough
to set the whole world hunting after Love.

---

Meg Hurtado Bloom has an MFA in Creative Writing from St Mary’s College of California. She works as a copywriter and lives in San Francisco. Her writing has appeared in Yellow Chair Review, The Volta, Cannibal, Hidden City Quarterly, The West Wind Review, POOL, The Columbia Poetry Review, and McSweeney’s anthology Conversations at the Wartime Cafe.