Tuesday, January 2, 2018


Okay, I take it all back—you can talk
to me all you want
about _______ (WHAT).

Guess there's really
no loss quite like

the bloodless
remembrance of loss,

probably because—no loss
except it.

Do not try to pronounce that thing, just
accept it:

"foist." "crack." "pervade." "insinuate."
This all sounds right in your own native
tongue—doesn't it?

do dishes
coffee clean and
type little crumbs

all you want. But please, let me revise
at least this
one paragraph for you:

to grieve, you'll have to
open up.

I don't mean—empty. And I don't mean
write. I mean:

you must speak.
Speak and say the wrong things.

to fill up

the raw freezing gulf
that exists
between you

and the rest of us.
if just

to keep breathing,
to exhale

and fill the bare air up
with warmer stuff.