What fade there is
in a day
of voices leaving
bodies leaving
decisions
and to sleep the whole
past off leaving
is this leaving
what you want?
The snow accumulates
low suds of soft
fame and I am
the only one outside
thinking this is
warmth—to be
gloved asunder
the upswept slant
to leave or remain.
Do you hear the
well-known artist
not making art
or is this just
winter with all
the windows open?
I climb less
than I fall
but it’s only
so that as I get
back up I know
I can stand in
myself and keep
still under a
streetlamp
never leave
a thing again.
Tyler Flynn Dorholt is Director of the Writing Program and Assistant Professor at the College of Environmental Science and Forestry in Syracuse, NY, where he teaches storytelling and creative writing. He is the author of the photography and prose book AMERICAN FLOWERS, and his visual and written work has been anthologized and appeared widely in journals and spaces such as BOMB, American Letters and Commentary, Denver Quarterly, Black Warrior Review, Poetry Project Newsletter, the Everson Museum of Art, and elsewhere. He has published numerous chapbooks and poem films, and he is the co-editor and publisher of the press and magazine, Tammy.
JMWW 