My world, which Words have created,
has fallen into a deafening aphasia.
Increasingly,
as if rearranging letter blocks,
I misread words in the poem
Like “words” for “worlds—”or
“worlds” for “words—”
Just an aging typo of the mind.
Like a sailor blown overboard
into a raging sea, I cannot
swim within my thoughts,
cannot ride the wave’s surface
without tumbling into the foam
to drown without a lexicon.
(August 28, 2025)
subtext 