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DJ Gaskin
this week's poem...
the house was forgetting him
The house had already begun
to forget him, the air in each room
closing in like a black hole,
swallowing him to extinction,brushing past him, through
him. His translucent
bones give way to crevicesof irrelevance, receding
deep into the corners
he once occupied. Floors beginto unscuff, walls unsmudge; the perfume
of living withdraws to pure wisps
of breath as the face in his mirrorevaporates. The bed, the chair, all that
once held him, begin to forget his name.
© 2008 DJ Gaskin