fragment from a work in progress

Open and subject
Between things

Contingent as
I am and
You are

Punctuation gives
False hope

The mind
Makes connections
Where there
Are none

I am
Not one

I am
A hole

Open and subject
Between things

Pronouns are partitions
And signs

Now you’re
Being asked to
Assemble yourself

Now I’m
Being determined
By you

It is
Something else

We is
An abstraction

Contingent as
Things are

First or
Last things

Cut and
Bruised things

Mirror image
Half empty

Mirror image
Half full

Hat full
Of emptiness

Punctuation is
The Little Other

One of
Dogma’s siblings

The one
Who breathes
Most deliberately

The one
Who sees
Purpose everywhere

The one
Who lives
An allegory


The one
Who will
Never die

The mind
Makes connections
Where there
Are minefields

Mind is
Mostly noise

That being said
No ascension, attention

An event
Cannot be planned

A concept
Cannot be repeated

Poetry writing is
Not information

I am
Not one

I am
Not you

I am
To all appearances
An object

I am
Under erasure

I am
An intersection


I am
Whose projection

I am
A hole

I am
Your data dump