Jody Azzouni


Final Thoughts

Originally published in Sycamore Review 15, 2003
Added 11/28/2017
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Final Thoughts

Poem | Jody's Notes


This evening

the sky falls softly

so as not to alarm.

The blue ceiling darkens

and scatters.

The blue crumble twilights

your ways home.


And now what?

A light supper

accompanied by tiny pixels,

all surface and flash;

your ear detects

a word or two

in the gentle patter of accent.


Meditation is no solace

for ghost reproduces like tumbleweed,

scattering its eggs

only after it has died. So too

is memory: a larva

that eats out the heart of the present.


Soon your moment is over.

You clear your throat in vain.