LA | NY A Special Edition of The East Village

Andrew Epstein


It begins in the light and ends with fizz done.
A pacification of strife?
A marred, stem-like blade?
A worrying of one's own driest oughts?
Mirror of pedantic arrows, with security
smashed upon "presence"? No.
A wide enemy dumbstruck,
or noose that stays loose.
Clamorous undertow of scoured ceilings;
the home a blast between two
purposes instead of two cages.
A lone and merry slaying of dilution.
It wakes a thing clapping: it
thrives in the chalet of its breaking.

NY Index