Assemblage
Published in

Assemblage

Monument

A Poem

Since staring at the sun
opened tiny patches in your eyes
opened up to the raw
change
then the dry slop
from the absent record
that history that you were
busy
putting to sleep
that you were going to get
rid of
one of these days
but I keep feeling like everything
in your look
is not in point of fact
for me
but that like a member
of a prison —
prisoner/warden —
I can be taken out of
this desire & shown
just some other kind of book
or…

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J.D. Harms

Former hairstylist, perpetual philosophy student, swallowed by poetry, writing, ideas