The World Is Too Full to Talk About
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A Blue Sky Glimpse<br />
If ever man is defined by anything<br />
It is by his inability.<br />
I am helpless <strong>to</strong> my failure <strong>to</strong> carry the rock of love rested<br />
Inside my chest, pull it out through my mouth and give it a voice<br />
I hope somehow it radiates through my coat of skin and is seen<br />
As is the way of things, I am born with a gnawing incompleteness<br />
A loss always of the structure of a home, a loss that is common<br />
Somehow made <strong>to</strong> think one could conquer pain<br />
How do you conquer your own bones?<br />
How do you remedy the structure of your being?<br />
<strong>The</strong> first drop in the womb was sorrow<br />
And always it will be that way<br />
My eyes have adjusted <strong>to</strong> the colorlessness<br />
of living in a country like this<br />
but brutal <strong>to</strong> give the prisoner a window<br />
and every now and then I can see<br />
and it makes my outline crumble<br />
One day I will disappear<br />
Everything I struggled against and for<br />
Whatever stamina defines me is so infinitesimal<br />
It will disappear without putting up a fight<br />
But it isn’t personal; it is the nature of man <strong>to</strong> mean nothing<br />
It will not be a sweet relief the way I dreamed it will<br />
In my anxious fantasies before sleeping<br />
It will be quick, unfelt, unseen, and common.<br />
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