Only something with no
need—
warped by element, loved
into recession
Only something with no
mother, a boat on its water,
afloat and nowhere
could refuse the harbor
Something with no vacancy,
no hunger, cropping its own
low capacity
No birth wound, no age ring,
something strayed
by spontanaeity
Only something with primal
border, with mineral
armor
could turn from this offering
Like a peak you sometimes
see, not a chain of anything
Priscilla Becker
