On the Road to London
Is that the road to London?
The only road there is
You don’t suspect me of doing wrong?
We cannot hide from them
Steal after me and touch me?
Our bodies wet with sweat
Why not call to me?
And we cannot hear
Is it too late?
There is never enough time
Will you promise?
Will you promise?
Will you promise?
Will you promise?
No time for promises
Have you seen a woman pass this way?
On this unholy road
What sort of woman, sir?
A woman in white
Why are we to stop her, sir?
She wears her madness like a prize
What has she done?
She runs
Sierra Ortega
Sierra Ortega lives in New York City where she is a graduate student at New York University and an aspiring performance artist. She works mostly in the genres of found and experimental poetry. She's had several non-fiction and editorial pieces published in various regional publications and in the international politics magazines, The Interdependent and PassBlue.