By Noelle Kocot
Pathetic bright-dark, crawling with history.
Leave it to the angels to judge me. Gunfire
In the distance, I keep my houselights on
During the day. No absence of memory,
Please, I am only just getting started. It
Is precisely the moment to which you “adhere,”
Drawing the wounds on a faded photograph.
You say your deepest powers only come
Once in a lifetime, you say that we blink
Over ourselves. The limit of anywhere is
To forgive, and the classic metaphor for
Effort stumbles at a grave. I am looking for you
Always. This is the very moment of stepping
Outside and being thrown into a glare of light.
Noelle Kocot, "They." Copyright © 2017 Noelle Kocot. Used by permission of the author for PoetryNow, a partnership between the Poetry Foundation and the WFMT Radio Network.
Source: PoetryNow (2017)