JONAH WAS A PROPHET by Ottavia Paluch

by Ottavia Paluch / Saturday, 08 August 2020 / Published in Issue 18

but I’m just this tiny little thing
that was too quiet to become a prophet myself.

In the ocean, I’m not bothersome. Above it,
I exist and pretend not to. You forget who

you are after being swallowed. It’s weird, thinking
like this. You say things like home to a whale who

has already found one. In the digestive system, all you can do
is swallow and pray. You want to be cast out, like a fish.

Look at this world, trying to get above the trees.
I know nothing but the fact that we are fish, not saplings,

or that I will never reach the top of the mountain. Still,
I keep trying. Otherwise: no point. That’s not

the first disappointment I’ve had, which is to say that I
was the first, the one who stole the whale’s heart

because mine wasn’t pure enough. Did I choke on Eve’s apple?
If I yank on God’s vocal cords, will he sing me a hymn?

I don’t know. I’m not Jonah. Just a wannabe tidal wave,
a stranger. Scratched in God’s throat.

Tweet

About Ottavia Paluch

Ottavia Paluch is a disabled high school student from Ontario, Canada. Her work is published or forthcoming in Kissing Dynamite, Alexandria Quarterly, Room, and Ghost City Review, among other places. She’s also an alumnus of the Flypaper Lit Flight School Workshop, where she studied poetic forms under Matt Mitchell, and the Adroit Journal Summer Mentorship Program, where she studied poetry under Jessica Lynn Suchon.