A.F. Moritz, 'Simile'

[duathir.livejournal.com]

Cross-post from war_poetry:

Simile

As if you'd erased the city where the house
where I was born was standing. As if I
had gone away a minute, just to see what lies beyond,

as if anything does, and you swept away my path
with your broom and rubbed it out
with your wheels, criscrossing into chaos.

As if I found my way back anyway and you tore
the house down in front of me, but I still saw
you hiding there behind a brick and a weed,

so you tore yourself into dust. As if
over the empty spaces you installed
a loudspeaker with a voice of uniform

and blank-eyed pages, blaring that I
was never born anywhere, least here. As if
the planet was vanished then, under the noise,

and I would have to find another one to live on
if I wanted to live. As if in the whole
universe, though, there were now no more,

so my own gorge would have to be that planet.

By A.F. Moritz

Comments

[bloodrebel333.livejournal.com]

Wow.