On Poetry

Fragments of the deep and wide 

Pulling against the currents of emotion 

Conjuring.  

And conjuring. 

Mind Runoff. 

Leaking from my ears.  

Distracting my eyes.  

Afflictions of my heart.  

Wandering in my body.  

Conjuring the language 

Of my unheard body.  

The hollow sulking of an ocean  

Underground.  

Highways.  

And cells.  

Transmissions 

In the body.  

Conjuring.  

Or I scream. 

Fragmented thought.  

Could I paint the details inside my mind 

Could I bleed every word on a page 

Could I sing till all the sound is gone.

2 

I could run till the words burn through my feet 

I could push everything away 

Till I am alone in my room again.  

I cry webs instead. 

J. Evan Mayorga