Photo by David Matos on Unsplash
45
Collision echoes damp sink __ __ __
into weak fingers __ __ __ __ __
absorption falter residues __ __
and is left alone __ __ __ __ __
white evaporated edges __ __
symbol the trace __ __ __ __ __ __
of air’s constant ego __ __ __ __
decipher it __ __ __ __ __ __
eulogies of lost water __ __ __
are whispers __ __ __ __ __ __ __
of forgetting __ __ __ __ __ __
and it will end in fire __ __ __
miles of trail upwards __ __ __
exposed to sun __ __ __ __ __ __
46
pages blacked with nothing __ __ __ __
the binding the worship __ __ __ __
one hand is always closed __ __ __ __
around it __ __ __ __ __ __ __
graffiti over thin pages __ __
leaks over god __ __ __ __ __ __
and there is __ __ __ __ __ __ __
no decision __ __ __ __ __ __
memory sieves __ __ __ __ __ __
permanence over legibility
I did not know her __ __ __ __ __
hands gripped empty __ __ __ __ __ __
the wooden shelf sustains the added weight
without reworking the equation __
47
Festering rememory askew __
Against the contrast __ __ __ __ __
Memory provides the cold hand __ __
In the air there is dust __ __ __ __
Red swell of evaporate __ __ __
The remission of eyes __ __ __ __
Resees the clearly __ __ __ __ __
But only sometimes the light __ __ __
Naming is naming __ __ __ __ __
Thick squares refusing the exit __ __
Standing there standing __ __ __ __ __
The ground the ground __ __ __ __ __ __
Handcupping the echo __ __ __ __
It is still lost __ __ __ __ __ __
48
Grasping away of __ __ __ __ __
thought inventions __ __ __ __ __ __
imperfections of circle __ __ __
everything trying to be is __ __
misfigured language drop __ __ __ __
pings on gray stone __ __ __ __ __ __
could be anywhere __ __ __ __ __
no eyes __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
force neglect __ __ __ __ __ __ __
precious images in an old box __
someshelfsomeclosetsomeinside __ __
cannot trace it __ __ __ __ __ __
sorrow promises akin to vapor
children close akin to gone __ __ __
49
Subtraction __ __ __ __ __ __ __
is not an immediate act __ __
gradual fading gradual fading
it is final __ __ __ __ __ __
endpoint implies __ __ __ __ __ __
but we push __ __ __ __ __ __ __
stack of paper alive with wind __ __
our precious heaps __ __ __ __ __ __
the patterns do not change __ __ __ __
they are misremembered __ __ __ __
cool hand __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
separate heat __ __ __ __ __ __
endure __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
endure __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
J. Parker Marvin is currently a data analyst working in the semiconductor industry and lives in Saitama, Japan. Parker’s poems have been published most recently in Mantis Poetry, Levitate, and Second Factory. Parker’s collection Postlude to the End of is forthcoming in the Fall of 2024 from April Gloaming.