After Byung-Chul Han
Every deviation manifests as an image,
ready-made like a suit off the rack,
a package to be unpacked or returned. Here’s the crux:
my anathema is another man’s uniform.
Meaning, the division of categories and ironies
is total. Show me
and I will fashion a clone from the crowd
while heads are down and the canary
feeds on diamonds of sugar
in silence. Like you, I double-
tap and post my stripes on the bulletin.
If my eyes have made me naked—
let me shut my eyes.
William G. Gillespie lives and writes in Brooklyn. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Boats Against the Current, Red Eft Review, Olney Magazine, and The Drunken Canal.