Experimental Poetry, Dallas Knox
i’ve learned that honesty is like damp soil for the soul. i’ ve buried myself in it. cool and dark and black like no other it soothes my exhausted thoughts. without it, i am barren. i am tough and rugged and without merit.
the gnarled roots of my heart yearn for something sweet and real like the rain (which comes and goes as it pleases). close your eyes and hear it. listen to its nothingness and count every drop in the process.
let it do more than wash over your brown leaves. sit in it. live in it. drown yourself in its honesty.
the rain does nothing more than fall and sit and be reabsorbed. and fall again. and again and again and again and again. yet its persistence feeds us.
why would you thrash against the currents when you can rest and let the tide guide you. stop kicking, you will never be completely in control.
you must open the weathered dam of your heart and comprehend the rushing water and trust that it will lead your spirit to bountiful spaces
Dallas Knox (they/them) is an undergraduate at the University of Chicago studying creative writing and gender and sexuality studies. As a Tennessean, they are particularly interested in naturalist themes and also take a liking to experimental forms of poetry.