by JD DeHart






I root to the source,

dig deep or not so deep.



is my thinking on this issue?


do I balance my approach?


There is something to cite,

someone to read, always

another voice in literature.


I build the swirl of theoretical

voices, establishing the boundaries

of the case, only to find there is


yet another voice to add

to the mix, another brick for the

monstrous house of research.



a black line





There is a rivulet,

a carving in the world, split

through the center


This stream of verbiage

that makes its way through

the world between voices.


This is the place the animals

come to gather drink before

returning to the forest.


This is the place to build

a home, so far as the creek

does not rise.



a black line



What We Come to Know


started as a kernel

then rolled

into a hillside


soon became

a mountain, then reduced

to one single man


turned over

and found the sun

above, the world around


there is a solid

center of strength

as he moves forward


creature of the mud

gathering his mind.


a black line


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