Tuesday, November 5, 2013



I have set myself adrift on a river.
I have built the river.

Because I have not slept
I think it is raining
from the upper sky to the middle sky

but never reaching me.

If the self were

an inner tube inflated,

where is the mouth
that let the rubber nozzle
drink from its breath.

I wrench something from the ground
but say
look what the world is bringing to me.


  1. I'm not sure about all the parts, esp. the inner tube's 4 lines, but I love "If the self were/symptom." It's a good way to think of the narcissism of the last decade or two. Also, it's fascinating to wonder what the self is a symptom OF, unless it's enough to think (darkly) of it as a vague disease even larger than its symptoms.

    I also love that last line--gratitude for our gifts might be the antidote for self's narcissism. For me, that might connect to the Jane Hirshfield poem at my place. (Yes, yes, it's all about me. Didn't I just accuse us all of narcissism?).

  2. Hannah, I think this is a stunning poem. It has a fruitful elusiveness and suggestiveness, a sort of immanence of meaning that really spoke to me. I feel a loving quality to and for the self, in its entanglement with the world. Thank you for writing and sharing this.

    1. Thanks so much for this comment, Audrey. I appreciate it. Hope all is wonderful in your world.


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