My life doesn't go
any further than
the freight ship
hovering at a great
distance on a water
churning moment outside
my mind,
whether my heart
speeds up or rests,
or the cars and trucks
change direction at
Girdleness...
this is it, for me,
all there is,
to fathom...
and the fingerprints
of time visible,
just smudge if anything,
seal me to the irrelevant
of having to live,
a limpit stuck
in nowhere particular,
acknowledging,
life happening,
circumstances,
for the entity,
never to return....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem