Let me be aligned
centerwise,
carrying at my core.
Have me understand
the hands that have sung~wrung
and the feet that have wandered
without wasting
a lifetime.
Make these words away from the margins
so that when an editor arrives
they see
they write
from the red-line window
to my purple passage.
Build this poem as a pillar
so that it should not be knocked down as a tower of babble.
It is the writer's respirator.
It breathes, beats, bleeds.
Nov 18, 2025
Nov 18, 2025 at 12:18 AM UTC
Let me be aligned
centerwise,
carrying at my core.
Have me understand
the hands that have sung~wrung
and the feet that have wandered
without wasting
a lifetime.
Make these words away from the margins
so that when an editor arrives
they see
they write
from the red-line window
to my purple passage.
Build this poem as a pillar
so that it should not be knocked down as a tower of babble.
It is the writer's respirator.
It breathes, beats, bleeds.
