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Sport 40: 2012
when my language left me
page 215
when my language left me
maybe i was just drinking coffee
or opening a newspaper.
maybe i was closing the curtains,
or looking down at the street when it
left me. i was still thinking,
what a groan coming
from the depths of the wall,
what a rattle in this room. no window pane cracked,
no chair fell over in the kitchen.
on the street-signs
names dissolved to letter ash.
over the houses the word-tanker
drove away, massive, silent.
my tongue twitched like a
beached whale in my dry mouth.
i fled from the town,
retreated behind the border.
no letters got through and replies
failed to appear. where i
was, a gaping hole.
i am, my shadow
drifts into seed.