Baby Spinoza

Only Bread, Only light

There’s a grave inside the grave
Like the spoon
Inside Spinoza, small enough
For forgetfulness
Larger
Than love

I woke in the night
Syllables unspeakable
Still clinging
Big sky with stars
Faint music
Alien world

Spinoza
There’s no hope
Unmingled with fear
How old were you
When you swallowed
Your silver birth spoon?

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s