Sometimes
when I say “you” I mean “me.”

When I say “there is a conspiracy
of insulation” I mean “we.”

It never means “me” when I say “your
oil is economically attractive.”

When I say “as people lose their connection
to a larger functioning social matrix, they will
survive in any way they can,” I mean “you.”

When I say “I” am unreliable, I mean something
but I’m not sure what.

When I say “you are a sacred container,” I
mean “can I borrow twenty dollars?”

When I say “the place where all souls
will await their judgement on the day
of the apocalypse,” I mean “my apartment
hangs over a Steak ‘n Shake.”

When I say “the city has been burned and rebuilt
twenty five times,” I mean “the first thing
on my mind is carpet.”

When we appear to kneel in the sour
stream of silence, when space is our
deranged form of forever,
I mean nothing.

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Nathan Moore has been published at elimae, Quarrtsiluni, Menacing Hedge and others. He was the winner of the 2009 William Redding Memorial Contest. ‘Exegesis’ is a finalist for The Best Short Writing in the World 2011 and is nominated by Fleeting for the Pushcart Prize 2012.