How Language Lets Us Down
How slaughter is
close to laughter.
How defecation is
close to defection.
How a small stone
placed in a garden
looks, briefly,
like a flower, blooming.
How wary becomes war.
How you and I
spent the last hours
wringing our hands,
language a gone
good, deadened.
How and becomes end.
by Corey Mesler
from Autumn Sky Poetry Number 4, December 2006
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