Poems - 11. ALL THE NAMES

The light comes in like this
comes in lightly, in this exact way
but lower, maybe to the left.
Light coming in like this
is light-coming-in-like-this
is the way it came in
in the memory,
lightly. The lamp here is the-lamp-here,
and there is the ceiling-up-there, significant
because it was there and you
looked at it, that spot in particular,
for a long time.

Like pictures at an exhibition
set up in the Louvre,
over there is longing
and that is what-came-last,
the thirteen ways to kill oneself
are the things-that-are-left.
There is a new language for the world
except me, the man over here,
the man slightly confused
because he's abruptly now nameless
not even someone-without-a-name, just
someone without a name.