Jolt (First Published in Writers' Bloc, Rutgers University 2010)
Longing is white like the wind And it comes Tearing up the house, Overturning our perfect arrangements, Sending its music Straight into the heart Of our soiled lives.
No window can shut out its coming. No door can block its full advance. It comes like a mythic apprehension, Like a jolt From the machinery of God.
Over the seamless threads of existence, Over the seamless skeletons of dream, It batters, burns and breaks, Ripping out from inside our bodies Our flimsy sense of self, Leaving in its wake A head full of fire.