so … um, er … yeah, there’s this poem-ish thing

There’s this poem-ish thing that surprised me, including how it told me in no uncertain terms that I would end it just as the muse instructed, though my first instinct was to delete-delete-delete. Here goes. It’s been a while. I don’t have a title. I’m in shock that I have a poem. A poem-ish thing!

///

You have said mostly
nothing. Not Please,
no. Not Fuck you.
Not even Good bye.
And I also speak little
about this farewell
we suffer. No damage
from strange summer
earthquakes or hurricanes
but the rubble of this —

I have heard those
who are buried alive
can’t be freed all at once,
the weight upon them
lifted slowly enough
as not to shock
the lungs, the heart,
or flood tissue
with too much
rushing in all at once.

Or is that the theory
about leaving
the knife in the wound? No,
that rule’s about losing
everything, spilling more blood
than is necessary to prove
your point.

///

Or maybe there’s a clue to the title in that last line … I dunno.

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9 thoughts on “so … um, er … yeah, there’s this poem-ish thing

  1. Pingback: in which, without realizing it, i admit to hearing from the muse « carolee sherwood

  2. Loads of good stuff. Like the end “on point”, the idea of crushing weight lifted slowly — you can work out what you don’t like.

    Soooooo lovely to have a poem of yours to read!

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