Sunday, September 4, 2016

Quicksand of the Middle Distance

To what fascistic torturous command did you succumb –
become this numb and mindlessly recurring 
barely human ampersand?

To whose rebarbative insistence, threat, persistence 
did you let it go – dismembering, surrendering
your last gasps of resistance?

The quicksand of the middle distance: that’s the who-
and-what that gutted you and swallowed night 
and dawn. One glance, no chance:
you're gone.


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