Viral Clarity


Seventy five percent of what you

know has not yet occurred. Can

you talk anything concrete any


longer – a toad, a cup of tea, your

divorce? Beyond what you think is

nothing. A word on my tongue like


thought. How it feels in the mouth, a

tribute to absolute clarity. Half of it

is a wink, the other half trouble.


You can add it up inside your

wallet. But eventually you’ll have a

conversation about something else entirely.


Who let the virus onto the Ark?

Let go and fall into the blue, blue air.

Only the Doves at Dawn


The dead don’t move much now except

in the gut of the living. Even their ghosts

don’t touch this world – they live

alone in what seems to be woods.


They wait until they are sick of

remembering life. They leave when, like

a young bird, flight becomes irresistible.

No, you can’t hear their prayers in the dark.


Dogs can’t hear them either. Only the doves

at dawn. The clouds are not lower, it’s your

eyes. I could take you by the hand and lead

you out, but your resistance is impossible.


I flew with the doves this morning, not

far away. They were gentle, delicate, alert.



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two poems by Rob SpiegelON6_contributors.htmlshapeimage_2_link_0
Alison Scarpulla

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