now or then it might be
a letter a
chiseled sound-
shaped trace I
read at the funeral
a eulogy-filled
apology for not being
more attentive to language
Here Lies
Poem (2008-2011)
What
Is Written Here
Is
What Is Written
and you know Poem didn’t mean
it in jest or to disrupt
the wake
more of a moreover, more
sanguine than that
I still write to Poem sometimes
long complaints and article
analysis resurrecting old
readings and opinions of Poem,
why she left and who followed
it is one of those moments
when you recognize loss in an early morning daze, and
there Poem is again
agitated, vibrant,
reaching for the plums
1 comment:
poem knows that death is sacred beginning - no wonder she is:
"agitated, vibrant,
reaching for the plums"
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