Helene Achanzar

and it was as if the book
would never end, The Story
of Yes
. having already
read so much, why not
again until the pages
yellowed, bloodied by
highlighter, and the
binding turned slowly
to dust? how to know
the shapes of a Yes,
know it by name or
the ways it can curve
into itself, spin with joy
or how to forget Yes, recall being
a thing of the past. this time
we read alone. whether in an
emptied room or amongst crowds
of the godless, sometimes Yes
happens alone.





postcard from Art Unlimited


Helene writing a postcard poem

return to SHAMPOO 31