white noise

white noise

I am bones, marrow,
a song in mute, white
noise silence, a blank
nothing, my soul red,
I am a glimpse, a breath
I am undone by worry
turning to dust


A Blackout Poem inspired by the poem below by Afaa Michael Weaver.


I am a city of bones
deep inside my marrow,
a song in electric chords,
decrescendo to mute, rise
to white noise, half silences
in a blank harmony as all
comes to nothing, my eyes
the central fire of my soul,
yellow, orange, red—gone
in an instant and then back
 I am, for a glimpse,
as precise as a bird’s breath,
when I am perfect, undone
by hope when hope will not
listen, the moon wasting
to where I need not
that bones turn to ash,
a brittle staccato in dust.

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