Tuesday, April 30, 2013

A Girl Named Speck

A Girl Named Speck

You are here, and nowhere
else, the place you give yourself
to thanks you by getting handsy,
just where do you think you’re
going, that’s what the land says
to you. You can trick the world
into forgetting where you are
sometimes, get yourself swallowed
by a plane, for instance, stand
on a boat, you don’t move, it moves
for you, out from under you.
Could fall asleep here, wake up
in the Netherlands, wake up
next to a Galapagos tortoise.
Dust mite traveled to the end
of the earth, hallucinating,
exhausted, from one end
of the door jamb to the other.
Takes the hand of a god to
help you move, god of air
travel or benevolent giant hand
promising never to squish you
on purpose.

1 comment

  1. Though after a couple of reads, I don't fully understand who Speck is, I can understand how Speck feels, and I hear her "voice" as I read. In fact, I read your poem out loud so I could hear her better. The tone and cadence is perfect, and there is something about this poem that I love!


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