It begins simply with words:
You are no good, fully to blame. Stupid
sucker. Time you learned about the real world.
Your intentions once seemed honorable,
you grow the longest ears. The points
stretch above opaque heights toward eternal
condemnation and still you do not understand
the reason. You might direct the thunder back
to outer space. The demeaning shapes
of his words whip through your brain
like lightening splits apart a tree, leaving
a gutted stump that an old man chips at
with a sharp hatchet. No one else would know
what to do with the hole. He carves a curvy
bowl that contains your emptiness.
Inside this hollow you understand why
it doesn’t matter what anyone
thinks of you.
Carrie Albert is both poet and visual artist. Her poetry and collage/poem pairings have been published in many diverse journals, most recently: Foliate Oak, Sheila-Na_gig and cahoodaloodaling. Her poetry and visual art pairings works can be seen as former Artist/Poet in Residence at ink sweat and tears and Penhead-Press.com, both online. She lives in Seattle.