How To Erase The Hand Erasing Me Poem by Chuy Amante

A hunt, an observation, a quest?
ONE to loose and come out not there
Broad strokes, accomplished
by bulldozers
taking away
masses of
ME
Then the little me sits in the shade
making sure all is pleasant
but dissipating slowly
and then erasing with a fine eraser
begins
the beginning of the end, they say,
those who don't really exist,
but guide us toward the great
eraser, erasure, sure
the hand that erases the hand
the erasure never stops
until the reason for erasure
ends,
in
1