Even this freckle testifies to the strength of second thoughts. My family is a poem, the clear expression of mixed feelings, and your emergent system at five years old fires like the shoal of neon tetra kept in the depths of a ten gallon darkness. As for infinity, it's there, haggling with contradiction, asking each question but one. You will find for a while there you held the exquisite to daylight before setting it down on the baize, conquering. Sometimes it will feel like the entire body consists of flames; and sometimes concrete; sometimes collapsing like a waterfall or steady as a lake of evening lapping, the midges clouding the surface. Sometimes it will feel like air just before the air itself turns to snow. The solution is a solution, by which I mean lots of things dissolving to one. Copyright © 2019 Nick Laird. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on April 30, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets. |
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