the unstuck poem

When you peel the poem off 
   your back, it

Comes undone, it sticks back
   on to dear life.

That is the last breath of
   the unstuck poem

As it unravels its fight
   before your lies. Your ink will not think
   its grief

as if it is bound to a
   stone out

of gratitude - it will not sink, it will not be any briefer than it has to be.