Post by sjoyner1965.bsky.social / Redsky

sjoyner1965.bsky.social • Feed

The fear is always there, but it’s far less visceral and immediate when it comes to his grandmother’s cousins, as opposed to what his grandfather saw in the Pacific Theater, or his great-grandfather escaping the Kyiv Pogrom. It’s more haunting; His grandmother’s cousins just ceased to exist.

back off from thias poem it is a greedy mirror you are into this poem. from the waist down nobody can hear you can they? this poem has had you up to here belch this poem aint got no manners you cant call out from this poem relax now & go with this poem move & roll on to this poem do not resist this poem this poem has your eyes this poem has his head this poem has his arms this poem has his fingers this poem has his fingertips this poem is the reader & the reader the poem statistic: the US bureau of missing persons reports that in 1968 over 100,000 people disappeared leaving no solid clues nor trace only a space in the lives of their friends

do not know whether I have anything to say, I know that I am saying nothing. I do not know if what I have to say is unsaid because it is unsayable (the unsayable is not buried inside writing, it is what prompted it in the first place); I know that what I say is blank, is neutral, is a sign, once and for all, of a once-and-for-all annihilation. That is what I am saying, that is what I am writing, and that's all there is in the words I trace and in the lines the words make and in the blanks that the gaps between the lines create: it would be quite pointless to hunt down my slips (for instance, I wrote

apr 13, 2025, 1:32 am • 1 0

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