WINTER 10, VOL. 3
Hope
Albert Flynn DeSilver
The poem that is
called the poem
is not the eternal poem
the one that can be
read aloud isn’t
it either
the poem that is both written
& unwritten
like the spray
painted tag on
the side of the abandoned
Chevy’s Fresh Mex
in charcoal black
saying “yo blamzz”
The poem is the origins
of abandonment
and that scattered bag
of diapers on the side of the freeway,
the freeway—the poem
is the mother, father, baby sister
brother cousin of the
10,000 bits of trash and littered
trees I saw blinking by
on the 101 today, the poem
ever desireless goes on
poeming in the face of such
trash & trees, the mystery
at ease with itself hand in hand
with the poem’s bright
hand, is the gateway
to great understanding.
Jaqueline Mallegni, Sky Barge, 2003, handmade paper, bamboo, rattan, willow, 72 x 28 x 18 inches
