Where the wild concerns ache into language – almost – then
dissolve. You know it’s there. Knocking. Scratching. Nudging
with its cold nose for attention. More than attention – longs to rise,
shake loose confinement’s dust, be visible. It swears that’s where
it can be fixed. Among the recognized. Cup in hand. Tired eyes.
A whole world on its back. Back bleeding. You want to help,
you do. But pulling it up – you know – will tear your heart apart.
You’ve only got one heart. Small beating thing. Cold nose…
Karen Neuberg currently resides in Brooklyn and West Hurley, New York. She has been published in various online and print magazines. Some of her works have been recently published or are forthcoming in Boxcar Poetry Review, Toasted-Cheese, Bent Pin Quarterly, and Stirring. One of her poems was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize.