Rebecca Wright: Less

Spring '14 TOC

We who will awaken will find less, we will be alone
that stack of houses that used to line the crest of the hill is
obliterated, the snails are gone and their silvery tracks
                                    O I don’t have to look around
                        I lie here in the dark
                                                            there is nothing left.

You can’t reorder the hills or the river you blew off the map
or where will you get more kids for the nursery school.
If one imagines the abundance of others gone he would return
from the country, make rain, and lift those beings who cannot
wrestle themselves up straight.

This emptiness is now familiar to me, I have stared through it
and can’t see anymore.  There was a city limit sign, a
scumble of trees. So what about them
they just reel off like a TV in an empty room.  The Queen of what?
You thought you were going to have all your passions to rule, that
You would have to brush up on your sunsets, get the girls in the sweatshop
to hurry with their embroideries, wake the sleeping
gnats from the mud, but it’s not even in color, in focus.
                        This is the proof I need, I refer you to the press report (Attached)…


Not Enough Night
Not Enough Night
© 2012 Naropa University