What Is To Be Done

Automatic writing from the great beyond. Poem fragments, mental illness, whatever. Come for the inscrutability, stay for the brevity

2/18/24

To ground the unground in being

Sometimes in the dirt

below

sometimes lilting in the air

sometimes a certain slant of sunlight

illuminates the body

where the churn spills out over

the your edge

Where I can trace the horizon of bone

to your shore.

If we could meet there

and collapse into one another

something like a death

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Writing on the Wall is a newsletter for freelance writers seeking inspiration, advice, and support on their creative journey.