In search of reification

by David Ackley

Unrecalled, the term

could no longer think its meaning.


Wisp fingers

found only the lint

of recent occupancy.


It slipped the seam

without goodbye.


New words, fat with their

own content, found other realties;

the space went unlet.


Not an essential word,

too long for its purpose,

It filled a small chink in

my apprehension of the world,

where the leakage began.


You don't know how much a shim

means until you can't close the door

of perception. Here comes all this unregenerate

stuff, like demonic mouth-flies at a hole

in the screen.

For want of an abstraction a shoe is lost;

you step on a nail

and your jaw locks. Quick, give me a dipthong,

A phoneme.   A homonym.


"What's the word for for?"


If I forget thee at least

Let me not forget the name of my name.