Breakup poem with omitted parts
by Abner Dormiendo
The part where the dust is a frenzied tango
in the solemnity of sun. The part where a plate
is taken away, is washed, and is taken
back to the table. The part where we break
the plates in front of a tape recorder
and played it backwards after. The part
where it sounded like a flock of doves
about to fly. The part where you say
our hearts were an attempted flock
but we flew anyway. The part where
the doves are splayed open on the kitchen
counter. The part with the most light. The part
where we remove the feathers. The part where
we understood. The part with silence in it.
The part with our breaths spinning
on the phonograph of guilt. The part
where we went wrong. Is the part
we won’t admit. Is the part I would omit.
Is the part I’d rather have gone instead.
Day 21: Do an erasure poem. Now I have done a couple of erasure poems before, and it’s one of the most interesting things I’ve done in the name of poetry. But I just don’t feel doing it. So instead of a literal erasure, how about an integrated act of erasure in a poem?