An Obscure Poem

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AN OBSCURE POEM


He sees the world beyond 

our too-thin definitions

of a world, of sight, 

but then again he might 

just be a pretentious prick

and that’s the end of it. 

I suppose it hinges on 

if that’s a hand to pull us in

or just a finger, pointing out 

our consternation with a shout

of Look! I’ve got them in a pretzel! 

as we do our best to fill 

the seething silences, wonder

how it all fits together

or whether there is no reason, 

rhyme, no one back behind.


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