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A poem by Nicholas Laughlin

Published in The Strange Years of My Life
and previously
in Almost Island, Winter 2011

Je Vous Écris du Bout du Monde

Damn these fevers. Damn these speechless days.
Damn my old friends.

Damn my gambled treasures.
My frogsuit of jade.
My eighteen leopards.
My pretty crown of thorns.

There are only twenty-nine hours in every day,
only sixteen months in a year,
I only have twelve lives.

Damn this country, pretty on the map,
frontiers of crinkled scarlet.

There are too many wrong countries in the world.

I did not invent the magic lantern.
I did not invent the hot-air balloon.

There is only one day in every day.

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Read more poems by Nicholas Laughlin