Monday, March 22, 2021


What if 
every small moment 
had an even smaller door, 

a pinprick 
leading to all the centuries 
that came before  

and every future, kind 
or malevolent,  
which is still in the haystack? 

No metaphor will do
the trick; it’s you 
who must transform,

who must intuit,

you who must be willing 
to admit—

right here, 
there exists a terrible  
crack in the world;

and this poem 
is you forever failing—

but trying 
like the devil did—to mend it.