There are no neighbours to wonder
who you are, what you are doing...
Li-Young Lee, With Ruins

Crossing the open sea
I have come to live in the open streets,
without a name, without a passport.

The streets have eyes
so I lie beneath spider-webs.

The streets have eyes-
the cops, cameras, hawk-spies,

so I lie beneath hedged fabrics,
intertwined, invisible,
and the spiders shape the distance formed
between the eyes that spy from streetsides
and where I lie,
here is my cover, without border.

The streets have eyes
I lie beneath spider-webs
caught on kerbs or flowers at the street-edge.
I am beneath untiring legs,
spinning to the core of my refuge.

There is life at the core,
there is life like no other life,
I assume my old ways anew,
I assume new names, my pseudonyms in an old way
I teach my tongue new rituals,
I speak in a manner, masked to the core.

In time eternal,
between webs and my prayers
I lie unknown, unwanted, undercover.


Obemata won the 12th Sentinel Poetry Bar Challenge, July 2005 on the theme of paranoia.


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Sentinel Poetry #34

ONLINE MAGAZINE MONTHLY ...since December 2002

September 2005  ISSN 1479-425X

Editor: Amatoritsero Ede