Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2018  Vol. 17 No. 1
an online journal of literature and the arts
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Dear Delinquent

Dear disaster, he said to me,
tossing my shirt across the room

where the doorknob deftly
caught it. Inside out, its silk

draped and settled like a caul.
I was fond of his slippery mind,

could not access it, not completely.
Having mapped him, blazoned

his parts, sent my ships
across his sea, having dreamt

the way and its destination,
I learned how he drew near

to teach me dear, how he left
to teach me lack. Still I set out,

quickened by his touch, still I asked,
fair friend, what is your secret name?