Hidden

DONE

by Mark Ferrari 

 

I was taught

to fold my life,

and fold, and fold,

and fold,

and fold,

like nano-origami

into small

precise

partitions

bent

and flattened

with a hammer

and a knife so sharp it cuts

instead of creases

‘til now I am half buried in bewildering drifts

of pieces

trying to piece together something whole,

some overarching theme I can still point to and say,

‘Soul’

But the more I sort,

and sort, and sort,

and sort,

and sort,

the less I find

a theme

a them

a the

a th

a t to cross

a dot to I.

 

So now,

at 3 AM,

or rather 3:01

:01:01

:01:02

:01:O well, where was I?

Right.

So now at three O two,

I…lose the thread

and loose the thread

at last

and find

this lump

of smooth,

misshaped,

solid,

nameless

stone

exposed

when

for a moment

in the dark

the raging gale of all my doing

has finally blown away

the deep confetti of my

done.