[Abject Threads] a poem

 

Look firmly, fair, thoroughly

upon this organic matter, animal

nihilist, all knowing, alien, neither yours,

even never myself self-possessed,

if only to know the tale of a world

a-twirl, all the same rotting-

-today I’ll contemplate if so

I shall cut the thread measured yesterday,

spun just before,

die with youth and the vigor of

truth, bright burning blights and

abject failure still a-fight with might-

-aging knows no sense of awaiting a

welcome, tends to ignore every courtesy

nor gives not another face as to make possible

the existence of idiom-


-from Collection of poetry [Just a Body]