autobiographical reader | a poem on poetry

the I in a poem is never alone

the I is a time machine

the I is a multitude

buried, half-erected, sticking out

pieces, unfinished, parts, particles

cut, reverberated, agitated

reclaimed, the I stands in several rooms

at the same time, the I jumps from one time to the next

from one word to the next

the I thinks and feels in associations

out of body, within the mind, internalised

who said the dead are not alive

the dead surround the I

there is no chronology

there is only one collective body of truth

branching out

poetry is not a time machine

poetry means catching insects, hairs and leaves

all at once without hesitation

and releasing them as parts of a whole

that is not chronological

the I in a poem is you

we become one another

you’re looking for me when you should be looking for yourself