Poetry: THE O IN OBLIVION –David Feinstein


Staring at a window is no way to begin.
I didn’t want to
but I have.
The sun happens, but not to us.
A squirrel maneuvers
high in the branches,
too high up.
My eye itches.
It’s not like you need
to know any of this.
It’s like the world
is a giant, ruthless magnet
pulling at our eyes,
roaring distances
we feel a responsibility
briefly, to move between.
Space is a real thing
if you think about it.
But I don’t want to, or didn’t.
I wanted to vanish
inside all those vowels
set skidding in place.
I wanted to go somewhere
darker, faster, then lighter,
that somewhere being now
or now. No, not now, now.


David Feinstein’s poems have appeared in Tin House, Forklift, Ohio, The Atlas Review, Ilk, and Jellyfish, among others. He is the author of the chapbook Woods Porn: The Adventures of Little Walter (No Dear / Small Anchor Press, 2014). He currently lives in Amherst, MA where he teaches writing and is a member of the Connecticut River Valley Poets Theatre.

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