Poetry by Michelle Correll


You bestow your good graces
as if you wore a laurel wreath upon your head.
Yet, your features are too deep set to be considered classically Roman,
and your mentality lives somewhere in the middle ages,

King Arthur’s Arch Angel.

Still, you invite me to your
backlit five o’clock pavilion,
Greco-Roman cotillion,
bread and circus.
To distract me
from the fact you offer only
starvation and poverty.

Embarrassingly, once invited, I attend
watch your show and break bread.
Half-starved and too weak to revolt,
grateful for your kindness,
until the aches of the plebeian claim me again
into the shame of my own blindness.


Once described as “irrepressibly lyrical in her use of language,” Michelle Correll lives a life wrought with rhythm and abstract connections. In addition to poetry, she writes song lyrics and journalistic articles. She currently resides in Georgia where she is in the process of completing a bachelor’s degree in English literature at the University of North Georgia.