18 November 2013

Where I Begin
















Where to begin haunts after-event phantoms of 
effigies. You can’t recall placing them succinctly 
in clear-voiced plastic visions or storing them in 
an annexe you’d remember easily; oh no, not in 
eons - you only know what’s missing. That’s the 
concreteness you’re standing on. Which, as an 
indisputable fact, gives directional sense; thus 
contiguous edges lurk out there, somewhere 

So we’re looking for anomalies, bends & cracks 
in a continuity you know has beginnings in gaps 
of your memory; you can guess you weren’t into 
thinking clearly, if at all, and that’s the best clue 
you’ve discerned - yet where was I when it was 
clear I had already stopped thinking 

Aha, right here. So this is where I begin 

© 4 November 2013, I. D. Carswell