The Word Is Not The Thing


 

 

 

 

The pain doesn’t need to remain,
as permanent guest;
the relationship
coming from the past:
the ghostly searchlight up full.

Is this why I make endless
phone calls,
the animals closing in; and music
seeping from underneath the numbered doors:
of rooms on fire all around me?

from The Lost Neighborhood

excerpted in The Lost Canadian, Vol.1

https://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/

©Dean J. Baker

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