"Until the lion learns to write, every story will glorify the hunter. "
Sometimes
when
i cannot find
language
limber enough
to let me
talk about
my death--
its contours
and nearly inexpressible
shadows
i imagine
that all the words
get into the ring
code switch
into hard-core
street kings
and
demand
a fair one.
My God
how they would
duke it out
neutralizing nuance,
creating awkward silences
for days.
You have not
heard a dead language
until you've listened to
someone try to speak
of their own death
and weep
at the bruises
it leaves.