Monday, April 24, 2017

VANISHING POINT

Sorry to say—compassion 
isn't a 
very big thing.

It's more like 
that precise and pointed 
jewel facet 

where kinship 
annihilates 
individuality. 

It's a blade, 
a weapon. It's knowing—

like a narrow spear of 
rain knows the river, 

like a pair of silver scissors 
knows white paper—

that right now, 
somebody out there 

needs more help
than they're 

willing to ask for—and yet, 
also owning the feeling 

that it could be, sometimes,
worse than this: 

sometimes there's a 
desperate little animal 

making its nest 
under the hood of your car,

and it needs 
more help 

that it knows 
exists. 

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