hands stuffed deep in his pockets. I am raw. Rawer than the fish I ate
for pot luck supper that one night in October when the leaves were
beginning to change and I had no one.
I am raw. My voice is a seal, and the door opens and you stand,
nodding your head, nodding, always nodding.
I am raw. I am pain, pain that is quicker than lightning,
that moves up out of the ground and onto still air,
I have won every award that does not bear my name. I am childless. I am homeless.
I have no bread, no way to eat. I give my food to orphans.
I am not anyone's angel. I am nothing. The world is ever changing, ever dying.
You accuse me of nothing. I speak nothing. I speak.