welntaod

Yay Poetry Day! I reckon I might as well post now, before I turn off my busy box, rather than in the midst of dinner and Flux prep. Here's an oldie but a goodie...

He Speaks From Experience

Felt like I
was a word being
erased. Itched every which
way, brushed
aside, blown off.

Later, I turned
calm & blank or
never blank again.
A disinterested third party
who witnessed second thoughts.

The word love
can be erased
just as the words
suitcase or serene or
is there a difference?

In this collection
were many such words,
a whole spectral language
to be reformulated.
Old rubbings.

But the rubber-tongued
could never utter them
without further diminishment
although they twisted with pleasure
& their intentions were pure.