Poem of the Week

The inverse of language is like a laughter that seeks to destroy language, a laughter infinitely reverberated.

                              - EMMANUEL LEVINAS

The laugh that ate the snake and

runs through the city dressed in a sneeze, the mischief

done in these sly

passages of time, when the tongue is

severed from the voice and

fed to the weather, when the running

patter of catbirds simply

swallows the agenda, nothing to be held back,

nothing rescued in a catch-phrase or figure, your

house is on fire

and your children are gone.

When evenings pass as unseen

immaculate ships, and folk -

everyone is suddenly folk - rush to their porches

and lift their faces to this

effervescence of air,

wishing.

                Wishing what?

Just wishing.