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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