45 

Collision echoes damp sink __ __ __  
into weak fingers __ __ __ __ __  
absorption falter residues __ __ 
and is left alone __ __ __ __ __  

white evaporated edges __ __  
symbol the trace __ __ __ __ __ __  
of air’s constant ego __ __ __ __  
decipher it __ __ __ __ __ __  

eulogies of lost water __ __ __  
are whispers __ __ __ __ __ __ __ 
of forgetting __ __ __ __ __ __  
and it will end in fire __ __ __   

miles of trail upwards __ __ __  
exposed to sun __ __ __ __ __ __  

46 

pages blacked with nothing __ __ __ __  
the binding the worship __ __ __ __  
one hand is always closed __ __ __ __  
around it __ __ __ __ __ __ __   

graffiti over thin pages __ __ 
leaks over god __ __ __ __ __ __  
and there is __ __ __ __ __ __ __ 
no decision __ __ __ __ __ __    

memory sieves __ __ __ __ __ __ 
permanence over legibility 
I did not know her __ __ __ __ __ 
hands gripped empty __ __ __ __ __ __    

the wooden shelf sustains the added weight  
without reworking the equation __ 

47 

Festering rememory askew __ 
Against the contrast __ __ __ __ __  
Memory provides the cold hand __ __  
In the air there is dust __ __ __ __   

Red swell of evaporate __ __ __  
The remission of eyes __ __ __ __  
Resees the clearly __ __ __ __ __  
But only sometimes the light __ __ __   

Naming is naming __ __ __ __ __  
Thick squares refusing the exit __ __  
Standing there standing __ __ __ __ __  
The ground the ground __ __ __ __ __ __  

Handcupping the echo __ __ __ __  
It is still lost __ __ __ __ __ __ 

48 

Grasping away of __ __ __ __ __  
thought inventions __ __ __ __ __ __ 
imperfections of circle __ __ __  
everything trying to be is __ __   

misfigured language drop __ __ __ __  
pings on gray stone __ __ __ __ __ __ 
could be anywhere __ __ __ __ __  
no eyes __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __  

force neglect __ __ __ __ __ __ __ 
precious images in an old box __ 
someshelfsomeclosetsomeinside __ __  
cannot trace it __ __ __ __ __ __  

sorrow promises akin to vapor 
children close akin to gone __ __ __  

49 

Subtraction __ __ __ __ __ __ __ 
is not an immediate act __ __  
gradual fading gradual fading  
it is final __ __ __ __ __ __  

endpoint implies __ __ __ __ __ __ 
but we push __ __ __ __ __ __ __ 
stack of paper alive with wind __ __  
our precious heaps __ __ __ __ __ __ 

the patterns do not change __ __ __ __  
they are misremembered __ __ __ __  
cool hand __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ 
separate heat __ __ __ __ __ __  

endure __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ 
endure __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ 

J. Parker Marvin is currently a data analyst working in the semiconductor industry and lives in Saitama, Japan. Parker’s poems have been published most recently in Mantis Poetry, Levitate, and Second Factory. Parker’s collection Postlude to the End of is forthcoming in the Fall of 2024 from April Gloaming.