Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Untitled


I see a lingering doubt
in his eyes before 
he knocks on the door,
flirting with the boundaries
of his language, his words 
undo him

He hesitates, a perennial
call for rescue slanting 
across his body, a writing 
where he does not belong, 
no one comes to 
tease meaning from 
his mumbled phrases

I hazard guesses as if 
playing a game of 
darts but the arrows 
never hit home, perhaps
the target was as 
thin as air, his 
invisibility 
unseen in my 
hermeneutic
world

How can banal words
be lost in translation? 

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