Strange Alchemy – Devon Balwit

Devon Balwit

I don’t know why I let my students—
       let them get to me, let them

stop my fine breath, my forward—
       my forward momentum

muddy the spring always welling—
       up welling, the words’ hum

why do I stand transformed, turned—
       turned into stone, mum

sometimes I even have to walk—
       walk out before invective comes

no Buddha, not motherly, benevolent—
       no, violent, and want some

something to change, think of the long—
       long for the long twilight, thumb

tapping space bar, my turn to transform—
       be transformed into the sum

of resistance + resentment + booze—
       luring the muse, my nostrum.

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