Pulled Into Form

A Poem

“a mystic impulse: I know what I do not know.” — Barthes

Descending images pluck a worry fully formed the excruciating colours of injury grabbed by the inconsiderate hand I want some magic

I want to feel height

I want to breathe in the sidewalk & rain without having to move for a long time pulled & turning making an immortality

Forgetting the frozen wastes of useless memories bodily I threw myself into this ocean I sat on the plains & watched all distance fail then come alive

J.D. Harms 2020