But We Didn’t Think to Worry
We pack with ice the belly of our sadness
the way we’ve seen fisherman do. Until where
do we need for it to last, to not spoil
and make a waste of our effort? Get there already.
Please. The ice has never not been melting.
We don’t say the ice cries, though its drops move down
its body as if on an elevator descending. We want
the doors of our sadness to open now
that we might step out. We lied. The ice was
too solid to be questioned once. It taught its slang
to diamonds. It spoke. Its tongue creaked
but we didn’t think to worry.
4 thoughts on "But We Didn’t Think to Worry"
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“It taught it’s slang to diamonds” is magic. Love the whole premise as well as the blocky presence on the page.
Such articulate shifting from thought to next thought; I can see this being read, standing and shifting weight from one hip to the other… brilliant piece.
The title is first rate and the beginning lines are strong, tying fish, ice, and sadness together in the rest of the poem.
I love how his imagery wraps itself into a neat package, netted together by the fluidity of melting, of change. And I love “too solid to be questioned once.”