feb. 24, 2020
samuel mignot

I am dying from the emptiness of cautious and clever people

--Quay Brothers

Note, from the emptiness.

not of the emptiness.

Should be odd: this from.


being, after all, passive,

too passive to issue

from anything.

            To not just be

latently, there:


Just as we are, a vapid congealing of molecules: generously,

        a bungling.

Just as we are vague, passable interpretations of a reified beyond, dissected and personally cultivated

            in private gardens. So, I can, for example, tell you,

            The Magnolias are pushy this time of year, and you can respond:

                a) Magnolias... Magnolias... Good lord those are Hydrangeas,

                or, better yet, b) pretend that you see them too...

Emptiness is that which takes:

wants to be full.

To emerge from what is without

is to efface the very place that bears, right?

Unless emptiness is what you leave behind:

any movement inventing the ghost that haunts it.

Or perhaps just the name we give what we abandon,

the brief or infinite space, waked as you flow

filling the space you are assigned.