subtext

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Poem Beginning with Lines from Gustaf Sobin

all the meanings, values, irrefutable

definitions we’d/ given ourselves

peel away into broken abstractions.


We have assumed most of who we are,

little of which is true, though believable 

within the confines of childhood stories.


After the particulars parade past

with their horrors and delight lost in flames,

we seek solace within our curtained rooms.


Our pets peevishly crawl from the corners

to protect us from the expectations

which cling like the aftermath of a fire.


The shapes and textures of these words matter

for there is little which cannot be burned.

(September 14, 2024)