One
Audrey Gorton
One
Audrey Gorton
But I am
lonely for the whole loath
some world, as if it were one
person whose name I almost know,
a man who lost his first tooth
the same day
I did. We once spoke forth
a flood, all at once, after
wards aching everything. Dismal,
I laughed, how dismal we are.
Suddenly,
his brow wept senescence
in blood sweats, and ashes fell
from his eyes like a veil, or some
thing along the lines of veils,
his rot tongue
retraced the hole where a
mouth was, and he spoke: It is not
as if I want to know what
becomes of us in death.