Skip to content

It sits with itself in its arms. Out of

the depth of its shame it starts singing

a hymn of pure shame, surging in the throat.

To hold a true note could be everything.

Getting the hang of itself would undo it.

An awkward lyric

Denise Riley

More from
Poem of the Week

Soraya Peerbaye

Skin

Brian Henry

Writing

translated from the Slovenian written by
Tomaž Šalamun