A Woman Comes Apart
Jerry Gordon


A woman comes apart
behind my eyes.
Her jaw hangs and joints get loose
as she tumbles into pieces
of memories,
breaks down into pulses of meanings
and ways
for me to feel.

And I feel destructive,
as though this forgetting
is the only real form of destruction,
the only way to not make.

And I want to see her face
if only in the screeching
hallucinatory glory
of running parallel
to another subway train
in the odd nowhere underground,

to stare
at her staring back
from a lit window in the dark
with the sense that this
is more than usual,

rattling and jutting away
like skeletal ghosts
terrifying each other
while falling apart
and in love.


More Poems — return to Poetry Korner


Jerry Gordon

Recognizing Rain

A Woman Comes Apart

An Old Man Bathing in the Hosoegawa


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