The Hole

Who speaks for the fifties? his wife had asked, but neither of them could come up with a poet and went back and forth suggesting different possibilities only to joke that the fifties were when you understood everything and so what was the point of poetry.

It was impossible to capture the trajectory of life in a map.

No matter how hard you tried to draw the world, you could never be exact

Even in her silences she’d seemed as if she were constantly crying. But in front of others, she tried to avoid revealing a single tear

It was difficult and exhausting, but he quickly accepted the fact that life had to go on without her. He’d lost love, and yet the world was not the slightest bit shaken by his loss. The part of his life that had had J in it went away, leaving behind a cavity, a hollow, and still the world was unmoved. Nothing would ever fill in that empty space. But Oghi’s world would keep on spinning regardless.