gymnopedie rain—
burrow into me.
poe wants a few words.
i'd give it to him
if he weren't dead.
dickinson wants
more paper.
i would give it to her
if i had any left.
upon this
spectrum
of literacy
and art
where can i fall.
without feeling too far
from the truth
without feeling too close
to the lies that i've told
to keep my honesty.
ferocious and abandoned
an orphan of a poet.
surrounded by earth
and the darkness
of not knowing
how to uproot.
where did my gentle go.
