Funnel / Mark Pentecost


My mouth is a funnel.
Which end is which?
In our universe,
This is a law:
When something’s emptied,
Something fills.
Which is which?
I rotate a glass of something
So the upside is down.
It floods with absence as,
From the bottle beneath the funnel,
Lack and privation are stirred up
Into the vortex,
Scattered, re-
Collected.
In our universe,
Loss is conserved.

Laura.
Tom.
Donald…
Is there a point
To going on?

The empty glass brims
With emptiness.
I set it on the table carefully.
Nothing spills and stains my fingers.
Sit down. Have a drink
With me.

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