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  • T. V. Pinkard

small talk.


It’s been a long time.

How have you been since the world split in two?

How is the chasm that swallowed you whole?

Are you falling through it still,

or have you since hit the earth

at breakneck speed?


How’s the weather down the hell road life has left you on?

Has the acid rain been light?

How are the meteors crashing down, with tails of red and hateful flame?

Do they light the sky like shooting stars?

Don’t they make for one hell of a sunset?


How is the emptiness?

The unending dearth

Of dreams

Of meaning

Of touch

Of hope?


How is the silence?

Has your world stopped quaking yet?

Have they found a magnitude sufficient to describe it?

Have they found a question worth asking?


Has anyone built that bridge to span the great divide,

between living and breathing

between my world and yours,

Or have you been left there

All this time?

Left to normalize the meteors and chasms

To ask your own empty questions and pretend you know the answers,

To fill the vacancies in your heart and in your house

with anything you dare.



***


For Jilli

11/14/20


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