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| Poetry Please start one thread for your own poetry and just add to it! |
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04-24-2010, 05:12 PM
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#11 |
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I promise to aid and abet Join Date: Nov 2009
Location: in between poems where ceilings are floors and joe ghost floats achromatic toward day
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from Dear Michael (2) - Mark McMorris
The wound cannot close; language is a formal exit
is what exits from the wound it documents. The wound is deaf to what it makes; is deaf to exit and to all, and that is its durable self, to be a mayhem that torments a city. The sound comes first and then the word like a wave lightning and then thunder, a glance then a kiss follows and destroys the footprint, mark of the source. It is the source that makes the wound, the wound that makes a poem. It is defeat that makes a poem sing of the light and that means to sing for a while.
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Class, race, sexuality, gender and all other categories by which we categorize and dismiss each other need to be excavated from the inside. - Dorothy Allison
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