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Two Poems photo

February 6, 2014

Two Poems

Rae Gouirand


Where did I stand before I was
found: I am not

sure I called a world
& sense of toward

to fix me into the wait.
What is loneliness

for one
pointed in

the place called for
lost every word.

Why choose.
I might not

sometimes: I need
to forget I was born,

eliminate that
from what I’m thinking about

a self indistinguishable
the liquidity in

all directions. I know I
came even

if I can’t remember
where from. Mostly I walk

alone with more than I need
rehearsing something

I knew
before I spoke.



Sense, Since

Is neither made nor found.
Is the word and the space

and every move to erase
what knows me so

touch rubs it in.
Translates not now, now, now

but I, I, I,
presses the ghost

below my skin. What I know
has undone those

I rely on for a sense of
yet. There was a moment

yes. I mistook it.
Thought myself calling out

a sign I believed
rather than

not. The unreligious pray
loudest, disguise

calls with
bets. Lately I wake trying

lines word
for word, their own title.

The word would be word.
Just one. I have learned it.