Archive for November 21st, 2010


By Len Kuntz

I am reaching inside myself,
elbow cocked toward a ceiling,
fist and fingers fitted in my mouth,
down the throat
trying to find the key
that unclogs the valve near my esophagus.
But there is no air
and no You,
so I dredge all day,
my fingers as unreliable as ever,
but the nails sharp and jagged,
scratching code into the lining of my larynx
the way prisoners mark days.

Read Full Post »