0',0'.

Author:Majmudar, Amit
Position:Poem
 
FREE EXCERPT

0',0' Where Equator and Prime Meridian cross is the one True Cross, the rood's wood warped and tacked pole to pole. Constantine's mother wrapped in sackcloth a splinter of it, Jerusalem souvenir. His fingertips tickle where they meet in the skies over Fiji. A nail pegs foot, foot, and Ross ice shelf, while the North Sea baptizes him each time his head lolls. He is convex, racked. Now the sun hoses him with bleach light, eyes stinging, enough to make him couch. Now he's spun to face a darkness his pupils dilate around but can't swallow, not whole. He is abandoned and loved like clockwork...

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