Issue Thirty-Three - Winter 2019

Three Pieces of Paper Left

By Laura Merleau

I am looking for a mask.
Tired and hungry and
breathing dust from arid
mountains blowing
across the city cold hot
hungry tired bloody
nose or not just keep
walking. I am looking
for a mask but I find
paper. I am looking
for paper but I find

a mask. I am alone
and monks aged ten or so
serious and smiling
in their wine and saffron
robes cross the street
in front of me and how
will they so young grow
old the way I never
can as long as you
keep bringing me here

in search of a mask,
some paper, and the
way to write to you
about what I found
instead of what you sent
me searching for.

Copyright Merleau 2019

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