A Poem by James Diaz

In the way of our way, there is no room for the other, yet more

If I were to motion toward you, it is only to indicate ‘beware of brevity’,
of trees that will be cut down because they are in the way, because
they don’t look like houses, and are only a novelty carefully planted
and spaced on the side of commercial highways, after seeing all that
I have seen, there will be a devastating walk that we all make, to a
place we sleep, that for some, is only ‘the idea’, and for others, even
less, the heart doesn’t go out to these things, that indicates a distance,
whereas the heart is already fully immersed in them, even born in the
same pool, with its first breath given, added to the spaces of this hard
sleep- detailed life and asking for detail from life – then things are exposed,
one momentary forgetting and then being handed back that forgotten item
of ourselves, as receivable only after it has been lost and returned to us,
then ‘brevity motion’ is ‘composure motion’, and many provisional refillings
follow, un-sped, the way items slow themselves down, and then our own
body/heart itself, put to rest in ‘the idea’.



James Diaz was born in North Carolina and raised in various parts of the south. He currently resides in upstate New York. He is previously unpublished.