On the Other Side

This morning I have been pondering on what happens when one redacts someone from a narrative. No matter how well spun subsequently, there are tell tale signs, phantom signs, of the intentional omission.


when all their talking

‘tis finally done

peace for him

if not them?



despite all the stirring

no solution



a glitch

an upended hiatus

an anomalous man

who cannot be fitted


a rogue narrative

now crumpled in

the wastepaper bin

discussed ad infinitum


that is all he was

a rejected chapter

a struck-out verse

a remnant


the unfinished

cannot now close

for the space,

the vacuum


the void of

where he was




a strange ripple

unease amongst

all those dominoes

stacked so close