Malak Mattar, Untitled (detail), 2024, charcoal on paper
I Cannot Name Him
I know him by despair,
know his truck is the truck
that levels the trees I know him
late at night in bed, dark lake—
one great eye opening suddenly.
I awaken in the ink-fleck to the call
of my name and find no one there—
stuck breath, echoed third—
air static, staccato, disturbed.
Published:
| Online 2007

Kimberly Kolbe
Related Articles
Meanwhile
Poetry by Tiana Nobile
It Runs in the Family
Poetry by Joshua Bennett
A Book
Poetry by Humberto Ak'abal • Translated from the Spanish by Michael Bazzett