FIVE POEMS
Sep 01, 2022
2 minutes
BRENDAN LORBER
At first these poems were their own
At first these poems were their own sweetfurlough or as Basquiat did it the reflexiveopening of a new personal phase for mealone that many have traveled beforebut never together a phrase too busy to sitand be spoken that awakens to the recurringwave of arrival But arrival of what? Cakeand candles? No an abundance of cautionlike migratory flocks of a novel species oflanguage that comfort us through familiarityrather than meaning and which roam withouteffort from hand to hand in the manner ofa joint or communal wafer A ritual that lendsthe emptiness ahead a reassuringly solid veneer
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