Poem of the Week

No More Now. Even Fear Has Fear. Even Of Itself.

I refuse to be lonely. No longer. It’s enough now.

Language contradicts itself, constantly producing

additions, disclaimers and footnotes. And the body

never gets ready, nails grow out, and hair, in the strangest

places. Here is the mountainside is black with lemons.

At the very moment I rest within my contour a dam

breaks. Maybe there’s a connection. I am someone

who…bounded by skin, is alone. I say it again, as loud

as I can: not another word! Maybe everything is connected.

Several thousand kilometers away you move your hand.

And here everything is instantly flooded.