Poem from Stone
How long should it last?
Is it the marker for a
grave? What do I want
to say, if given the opp
ortunity, to you? Who
are you and what is it
like to be here at...
when is this? It would
have to be about me.
I like the feeling I get
writing that. It’s so
naughty. Or maybe it
could be inhuman,
filled with active verbs
turned nouns. Me,
erased completely.
That seems so insincere.
Or. Maybe you could come
here. Save me (us) from
what you know took me (us).
Do you have the cure?
Imagine nothing. Blank space.
A sheaf of paper with nothing
on it. No blood. No ink. From me.
