untitled
The year I
couldn’t stop puking. My heart
became a weeping thing. The year the world folded itself over
like a piece of paper. Surgery year. Resign. Wait.
How can I describe the year? A sort of emptying
in the chest. A freefall. The fraying cord on a fishing line
as it snaps hard into the rough lake.
as it snaps hard into the rough lake.
7 thoughts on "untitled"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Great last line!
Thanks, Amy 🙂
I’m with Amy. I love “The fraying cord on a fishing line/as it snaps hard into the rough lake.”
Thanks, Dr. Bedetti. I almost feel like the rest of it was to generate that line, in a way. 🙂
The images “The year the world folded itself over / like a piece of paper” and the ending one of the fishing line snapping–so evocative. Such a powerful poem for so few words.
Thank you, Karen! I keep hoping it all unfolds itself somehow.
Indeed.