Yonder Poem by Rae Armantrout
Yonder
Anything cancels
everything out.
If each point
is a singularity,
thrusting all else
aside for good,
"good" takes the form
of a throng
of empty chairs.
Or it's ants
swarming a bone.
I'm afraid
I don't love
my mother
who's dead
though I once -
what does "once" mean? -
did love her .
So who'll meet me over yonder?
I don't recognize the place names.
Or I do, but they come
from televised wars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 6:23:19 AM # 1.0.0.1119
