Not Known. M. McCulloh

Not Known

I am not known
To be effusive

But it is Death
That is pouring out

Of my veins

And dropping
Unwelcome tears

On strangers’ laps.
I have led a hard life
Held close, and in
Circumstances

Unforetold

I’ve made my way
Foreseeing

The sure, electric pain
That unmans me

Is not of bodily
Dismemberment

I scream not
Nor beg for pity

I crave not water…

I am made Not
By grief

Which is the only
Whole-formed
Frame of Death.