Disturbance

on hearing a friend is back in a psych ward

Crowd the corridors with love!
Or anyway what passes for it
when the vast redoubled efforts
of the mandibles of your perplexity

consume distress the way yours have
today. Crowd the corridors with life!
Or anyway those portions of it which
alight unquestioned, unconsidered

in your mental musk, and vaguely send
your dusky brightness any-which-way –
here, my dear, you’ll find that there’s
no room for fear for simple reasons:

it cannot occupy the seasons of your
occupation in the world. Your secret
has unfurled. We’ve caught it
at its game. You are its name.




.