Editorial Of The Absolute Poem by Leo Briones

Is it not enough
to have walked so far,
shrinking, hollow, stumbling
to the edge.
This sunken canyon,
this precipice.

This.

For I can see
in the sediment—

the silent masses of Auschwitz,
the heaving stones of Intifada,
the piled putrid bodies
of the Valley of Ararat.

So I growl like
a wild sheep dog,
as if to say,

“The ancient wooden plank
between my teeth
is the vestige of Noah

and is it
not enough
that I brought you
to this place? ”