What Is Not

by Perel Lubel, Contributor

This is what is not.

I find myself pinned
against a wall.

It would be a lie to say
that I could never find the words to speak.

Emotions and cognitions and theoretical conditions
spread themselves out
becoming the river
crying and howling, rolling upon the ground.

Expressions of the mind:
that is what I would like to write.
I am not sure what that would entail.
It is
easier to write about what is not,
like painting a picture
but only coloring in the shadows.

I stand, poised, hand upon hip
while the cigarette’s ash falls onto my shoe.


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LANDFILLS is a grassroots literary, arts and culture online collective based in Chicago. All work is original, except the featured images that accompany text posts (which are blatantly stolen from tumblr.com). Complaints should be directed to Po via Twitter.
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