I am going to disappear (After César Vallejo)
I am going to disappear one evening when the moon has risen,
though the sky might not be dark. I have seen this.
Looking out of the landing window at 2 a.m. when the moon
has moved from left to right without anyone noticing and the stars,
bored through aeons, have rearranged themselves
into pleasing patterns, I have seen myself disappearing.
And the bed will become cold, the cup will stand unlifted,
the dregs inside will film over, grow skin, as I dissolve.
Ann Cuthbert writes poetry, short stories, travelogues – mainly to keep herself amused. She has also discovered recently that she enjoys performing her work in front of live audiences.