[Note: This post concludes my May experiment in which I post only poetry. The experiment had several interesting results:

1. I realized that I don’t actually have to tell you about the new stain on my new jeans that I bought because I went shopping to avoid the gnawing existential/material (really the same thing, though) baggage weighing down my day-to-days at the mall last weekend (in which I look really good, though, mind you) every single day maybe even a few times per day;
2. I can get by on Twitter just fine;
3. I lost approximately 1.334% of my followers. (Philistines!);
4. I don’t really know that many poets. Please go out and get a bunch of James Tate books and read some Sexton and Lowell. Those are the only poets I feel strongly (positively) about.

Thanks for your indulgence! I’m going tentatively to resume posting things of a personal/cultural nature soon enough. Soon enough.]

NEITHER

to and fro in shadow from inner to outer shadow

from impenetrable self to impenetrable unself by way of neither

as between two lit refuges whose doors once neared gently close, once away turned from gently part again

beckoned back and forth and turned away

heedless of the way, intent on the one gleam or the other

unheard footfalls only sound

till at last halt for good, absent for good from self and other

then no sound

then gently light unfading on that unheeded neither

unspeakable home