Fracture Lines: A Sonnet

Amit Majmudar

Future 
kintsugi
filigrees 
the urn. 
Bl   ue corkscrews 
s   nake on up our shins. 
We’ve age   d. Our mileage marks the page
with runic tire b   urns. We’ve fractured. Vigor’s 
doppelganger, rage,   has got us boxing with our 
mirrors, knuckles shard-   spiked. Still: some feeling in 
our hands. It fee  ls like mor   e than simply flipping
nickels and watc  hing, every four ye  ars, how they land. 
Four decades    here, from birth to fath   erhood, and I’m 
still puzzlin   g out what really rules us.   The spectacle. 
Or what   it hides. Or hid, before it los   t the power 
to kee  p us clueless. Unless the power or   chestrates 
its outing. Clues to the lie. The ha  lf-
truth. Keeps us doubting.

Amit Majmudar’s new and forthcoming books are The Great Game: Essays on Poetics (Acre Books, 2024) and the hybrid work Three Metamorphoses (Orison Books, 2025). More information at www.amitmajmudar.com

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Wasteland Review is searching for raw, evocative writing. Poems with grit and soul. Send your best to wastelandlitmag@gmail.com

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