By Kate Sibery
I had been looking for a hole in the ocean—
so I decided to walk over to the East River
but when I got there
every person I’d ever known
had gathered to yell at the clouds
who just hung there
indifferent, and waiting
to fall down as rain
while I, distracted by the people
and the yelling,
gave up my search for the ocean
and took up my part in the chorus
singing away the threat of meaning,
choosing instead that hollow ache,
dull, and wordless.
Illustration Phoebe Wagoner
