Poetry Daily: http://www.poems.com/


When did I learn the word ďIĒ?
What a mistake. For some,
    it may be a placeholder,
    for me itís a contagion.
For some, itís a thin line, a bare wisp,
    just enough to be somewhere
    among the gorgeous troublesome youís.
For me, itís a thorn, a spike, its slimness
    a deceit, camouflaged like a stick insect:
    touch it and it becomes what it is:
ravenous slit, vertical cut, little boy
    standing upright in his white
    communion suit and black secret.

Michael Ryan


July / August 2013

To view this poem online, visit the Poetry Daily archive at http://www.poems.com/archive.php
View a large-print version of this poem