Yellow Mama E zine

Through the Eyes of a Monster

 

by John C. Mannone

 

The hall telescopes down

to a distant door, unlocked

from perpetual darkness

 

In scant light, the corridor

floor is wavy with shadows

trapped in the wax, together

 

with desperate voices,

plaintive moans—everything

is black and white to its eyes

 

                I know

 

I can see, smell red, every

shade: the deep dark pools

on the floor, the splatter

 

on the walls, whitewashed,

through which I still sense

the fragrance I crave

 

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       Image: Inspired by a B&W photograph of an institutional hallway

Photography Credit: John C. Mannone

 

 

     John C. Mannone has poems in Windhover, North Dakota Quarterly, Poetry South, Baltimore Review, New England Journal of Medicine, and others. Awarded a Jean Ritchie Fellowship (2017) in Appalachian literature, he has six chapbooks and five full-length collections, the latest, Sacred Flute (Iris Press, 2024), was a top-eight finalist for the 2025 Tennessee Book Award. He’s a professor of physics who loves to teach science, math, and creative writing whenever the opportunity arises. He’s the recently appointed Poet Laureate for the City of Oak Ridge, Tennessee (2026-2028).

 

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