omission
Catherine Weiss
what if there was a language with no word for [ ].
instead of [ ] you could call [ ] lovely
or a liar. you could give [ ] a nickname. [ ] has always been [ ].
[ ] takes this personally, believing if [ ] were notable, there
would be more words for [ ]. it didn’t occur to [ ] that any of
this was normal. too often, [ ] thinks in terms of worthy,
unworthy. once, [ ] left an offering of red bead earrings in a
yellow paper box for a girl who would neither wear them nor
love [ ]. once, someone beautiful told [ ] that [ ] is unwelcome.
on days when [ ] still believes this, [ ] repeats the word [ ] until
[ ] is a wall between [ ] and all softness. [ ] can still feel the
putrefaction [ ] understood as [ ]. please. please. [ ] is a history
of rot. plant something new here. make a ruin of [ ], slowly
devastating in the rain.
about the writer
Catherine Weiss is a poet and artist from Maine. Their poetry has been published or is forthcoming in Tinderbox, Up the Staircase, Fugue, Okay Donkey, perhappened, Birdcoat, Bodega, Counterclock, petrichor, Hobart After Dark, and Flypaper Lit. Their debut full-length collection will be published by Game Over Books in 2021. More at catherineweiss.com.