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Collapse the coming and being of it hanging on the edge still there is music still there are cool days with sunshine and music and beer because not yet behind bars not yet head shaved beaten solitary sunshine music and beer and companionship and food a thick soup and Orpheus and Eurydice lamenting down through the centuries and not dragged off and not yet seized and not yet away from the family the neighbors the friends not yet bombed not yet beaten but still with perfume on the wrists and books on the table and beer in the mouth and soup and the sad music and the late sunshine of the afternoon
Hades he’s a rough motherfucker Orpheus couldn’t look at Eurydice couldn’t tell her he couldn’t look at her she couldn’t understand why her lover wouldn’t look at her why won’t we look when they beat her and drag her away when the ghoul who says the storm is coming sicks his storm troopers on more and more of them until it’s her turn and and they carry her off she tried to protect others she tried to stay under the radar Eurydice sings Eurydice laments
Eurydice pursued and snakebitten and then dead don’t look back don’t look at what you loved what you lost you’ll petrify them they’ll be stuck in Hades Eurydice means vast judgment true judgment she does not get out why is she in Hades she did nothing wrong don’t look back at what you’ve lost keep looking ahead keep walking keep walking keep walking away
Orpheus failed he was torn to shreds you can’t bring back the dead don’t look back we have lost what we loved is she still there are those who we lost rained on by bombs there no one to pull them from Hades from the rubble no one can go where they are and come back don’t look back too soon who have you loved whom you lost the dead are lost to us bombed into hell under the rubble the bodies the weeping the loss the desire for release the desire for rescue the desire for revenge
When Orpheus sings Hades listens and relents but there are impossible conditions that can’t be explained Eurydice can’t understand these conditions Orpheus can’t follow these conditions she’s left in Hell he’s torn to pieces what are our conditions not yet come for us still above ground not in it not under it we fail we not allowed to look back we lose the thing we love most can we save anyone can we save those still not killed not murdered not bombed not starved not forced to live like hunted ghosts
Where should we look where should we not turn our eyes where will looking back destroy all we love where will looking tear us apart where must we look no matter the cost where must we sing where must we lament where will we lose those we love where will we too be torn into shreds
Joan Harvey has published fiction and poetry in numerous literary journals, including Bomb, Web Conjunctions, Blaze Vox, Typehouse Literary Magazine, Blackbox Manifold, Drunken Boat, Smokelong Quarterly, Otoliths, Painted Bride Quarterly, and many others, and has won prizes in both forms. An opera produced from her libretto has been staged, and she was an essayist for the arts and science publication 3 Quarks Daily. A recent poem was included in the collection Bearing Witness: Poetry for Troubled Times. She is a graduate of the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics.
Copyright © 2026 by Joan Harvey, all rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of Copyright law. Archiving, redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium, requires the notification of the journal and consent of the author.
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