SOUND IS LIGHT, LIGHT CONFESSES
Who is knocking when the knock
is morse code. Where is the tape that proves
this all is real. Magnetized by night,
bars in the margins. Look along the blur
lines for messages. When the static steps
back, a photo. The photo is of no one
you’ve ever seen. But they’ve seen you.
Look into the tube with the filament
trembling. A light is a vacuum, it contains
itself. You contain a light.
You just slapped me for saying
that. You are a light. You just shoved me
off the curb for thinking that. The fingers
of an electrical plug tap a rhythm. Sing
this song, sing that song. I’ve been trying
to tell you this for ages. Talk to me
with words, or talk to me with symbols.
I’m open to either. I’ll scrawl a message
on the cave wall. I’ll repaint
the fence. Just record what you have
to say on a cassette. And bury it
in the flower bed. I’ll hear you
when the petals open. We’ll laugh,
and laugh, and laugh.
Robert Krut is the author of four books: Watch Me Trick Ghosts, The Now Dark Sky, Setting Us All on Fire (which received the Codhill Poetry Award), This Is the Ocean, and The Spider Sermons. His work has appeared in numerous journals, including Gulf Coast, Passages North, Blackbird, and more. He lives in Los Angeles, and teaches at the University of California, Santa Barbara. Further information can be found at www.robert-krut.com.