blackbird online journal spring 2002 vol.1 no. 1



Blue Agnostic

Why so long with your disbelief?
I see several ships, they are moving toward us,

their sails are tattered, but they tack & ride
each swell.

At night the sea is cast, spider-silted. The flinty
underbelly of a ship. Did I imagine

that blue distemper? That crashing,
inextinguishable loss—

The frequency's fixed. Array. Array.
& those who sent it

will never know
its true expense to us.  

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