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these fragments i have shored up
against nothing – as words started
to fall apart, like a memory
or a glorious abortion -
because someone else should have said it
already, he said – as if others
could live within us, as if
they should, and as if thoughts
and words do not belong to me,
or you, or anybody – they are nightmares,
they are loves and memories – they transcend
the trendy immanence “i” is, once,
but never yet transcended me
or philosophy, words or forgetfulness
or poems – this psychic pornography -
just meanings no body needs
- david mclean
