v

a word is time in retreat,

a poem is its complete surrender

because i have written a poem for the ear that will be severed

i hide my nourishment in the lining of

a second-hand night sky

when the guards are not looking

i beg my language to slip

through the fence

because i have broken my teeth on the stoop of heaven

i choke on the name that was

ransomed in my throat

because i have touched the necessary

the tomorrow i was to wed

carries the child of another

and it will always be like this

while the day buries its face

i am its ash-

witness

the stain on a guilty wall

                                      because

darkness cannot survive

a dream that cannot walk

without supervision

i raised a poem from the dead.

from Peindicy  © Mike Schertzer, 2007