Empathy—died sometime before
January 20, 2017. The gate vanished
but we don’t know when. The doorbell
vanished. The trains stopped moving.
Someone stole the North Pole sign. I
am you, and you, and you. But there
are so many obstacles between us. I
can never feel my mother’s illness or
my father’s dementia. The black notes
on the score are only representations
of sound, the keys must knock certain
strings which are made of steel, steel
is made of iron and carbon from the
earth. Why do we make things like a
piano that try to represent beauty or
pain? Why must we always draw what
we see? Just copy it, my mother used
to say about drawing. The artist is only
visiting pain, imagining it. We praise
the artist, not the apple, not the apple’s
shadow which is murdered slowly.
There must be some way of drawing
a picture so that it doesn’t become an
elegy.
2020
Regular
Contemporary
2022
Ars Poetica
Death & Loss
Family
Dialogue
conversation between two or more people as a feature of a book, play, or movie
Imagery
visually descriptive or figurative language, especially in a literary work
Metaphor
a comparison between two unrelated things through a shared characteristic
Rhetorical Question
a question asked for effect, not necessarily to be answered