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Monday 18 December 2023



as a child I invented a mind within 
my mind

for years it clenched shut
the hole at the bottom 
of my heart
not knowing what it was

it cut paths through the Spirit 
built forts
threw balls of anger at my parents’ faces
so hard they wept
figuring out how to win

and it searched

it wanted to kiss
the mother of meaning
to feel 
the feeling
stronger than all the other feelings

and sometimes it halted
halfway up the slopes of Awe 


time passed 
like a lung inhaling without exhale
a fire always heating up

my family’s on the West Coast
but I live in New York
and when my brother calls
we whisper as we talk:

“are your thoughts, too, 
attempting something stranger 
than thought?”

I read a novel 
steam broccoli 
and take my daily walk
feeling the mind within my mind
and grasp 
and push

alone in my room
I stare at the wall
…it tries to get away

it caresses memories like rosary beads
each weighing exactly the same 

the frogs I caught
those days in spring
just wanting to meet them 

the songs I sang
the poems I wrote,
wrote just to read them

it must do such odd things 
in private
just to make sure it’s real
must search old yearbooks for answers
and feel and feel 

and feel

sense was never enough for it
sense was never enough


then one night 
tired of yearning
it drops the chains of effort

the hole opens—
and the universe
not wasting a second 
squeezes through 

galaxies hiss against the dark
the circle widens
waters laugh into oceans
wind and stone
spring, winter, wrinkled skin 
angels and angels 
a howl gets in
I gasp



but still it goes on
at its leash

one by one it cracks the shells
of meaning and meaning-
and slurps the pap in each

what do I eat?
it wants to know

why am I alone?
it wants to know

this hole I grip
why can’t I pass through
and what comes after?

the mind asks the question
screams the question
now something else


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