When The Observer Exits Poem by Bonnie Cote

black coffee
wooden dolls
piles of compact discs
that magically produce
a sound
trinkets of a world
that sinks around you
shifting, drifting in and out
of what appears to be
reality and real is not
always so clear as it seems
what is anything
when the observer exits?

ceasing form
and taking other
nothing is nothing
there is no nothing
nothing is nothing
what is nothing?
a shifting, a changing
but not nothing...

nirvana fantasy
can't be
because nothing
ever goes away
completely