Construction Literary Magazine

January 2017 Writers Respond

From Language’s Body

From <i>Language’s Body</i>
Photograph via Flickr by Alessandro Pautasso

Try A without capital, without apple without an arrow, a worm, without seeds, wax, poison; without snakes, students, Johnny. Without gold and New York. Without fail—a girl, a boy, an X. Without A is for Adam, Eve, Eden. Without color, evil, doctors, sunshine and/or physics. Without immortality, a race, without a throat or a sleeve. Without a never-sleeping, hundred-headed dragon. Without a stem, bite, a Greek, a Christ. Without a tree’s flapping tongue to not fall far from. Without being made sweeter with bruises, the dark cloud of touch. Without you, or me, or memory.