Terminating the Lyre

by Dillon Thomas Clark

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Perhaps I may accept 
this palm full of wasp eggs 




Accept this process of elsewhere 
as I push     one revolving door after 
new revolving door




I carry 
my organs tucked 
into the ratty mouth of a suitcase
bus wheels spinning     as ever my thoughts




Such a long dread pushes down on me 
unscannable until     I flush red 




It is a species of grief 
to do this leaving     & always another species of grief 
to look out this window   perhaps this is every picture I’ve 
kept     & say aloud




My name is gone

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Dillon Thomas Clark is a writer, editor, and educator from New Jersey living in Tucson, AZ. They hold an MFA from the University of Arizona, and are the author of the chapbook "If the Weather Were So Fair" (Shut Eye Press, 2024). They were a finalist for the Sandy Crimmins National Prize for Poetry hosted by Philadelphia Stories and a semi-finalist for the Verse // Tomaž Šalamun Prize. Their work has been supported by the Southwest Field Studies in Writing Program via fellowships and grants. Their work appears or is forthcoming in the tiny, Cobra Milk, The Milton Review, Broken Lens Journal, and elsewhere.