after the turn

February 3, 2017 at 9:49 pm Leave a comment

after the turn

After the turn
after the final failing…wordless, you retrace
each movement
toward stillness.

Each line as if written –each word prompted–
you find no
you can find no
though you would,
and time have spoken:
in detritus lies meaning
and corpses must
(at last)
have tongues…

Tear down that portrait, statement, attempt to name
the unpaused, that
alive in movement

After the turn,
after the final
walk, o walk
(quite slowly)
toward the newsprung, hostile day.


I would say “not real”, but is there anyone (save last century’s egomaniac and this century’s narcissist) who hasn’t experienced this?

Entry filed under: poetry, social psychology, voices. Tags: , .

Transmutations Intro To Diff View cont’d

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