Jenny Brav

Not a Poem

This is

not a poem
(nor a pipe).

Poetic prose?

Negative space in my heart,
crashing against what it is

not.

Too literal…
Telling, not showing.
Let the image carry the message.

What if I don’t know how?

My chest is a hollowed hull
of nothing-ness.

Who will tell my poem,
that it is

not?

Naught.

Knots in my mind

that don’t know how to unwind
these flimsy

words

in ways that will catch your whimsy
or connect to the negative space

in your heart.