Spasm

I remembered being infinite, today, did

—did I tell you?

My left hand keeps reaching for that

space between

my bare knee and the,

the, the, the—oh—gearshift which

is reallyreally empty

and I, I, and I

keep wanting to tell you—

somethings, things, all things to

tell you how the mountains,

mountains, I said today

the mountains look

pasted on the sky.

 

Author's Note

The last four lines are the only reason for this poem.

Reviews

[Russani]

How very refreshing.

[Wolf_Moon]

'How the mountains looked pasted on the sky'. I like that description. It made sense in a two dimensional way. It was a confusing, disorienting poem, but I liked that last bit. I can't exactly offer criticism on a poem like this; it stands alone.