The Crack in the Map
J. Quinn Brisben
The crack in the map runs through
My life, crooked rivers do not quite
Match, the names of cities
Wobble, and there is difficulty
Explaining where I come from:
Some dry and cracking place where
Gritty winds muffle words, so
The fault line runs through time
As well, isolating me in books
From those whose words did not
Match what I saw and the bonds
Between us wobbled and were lost.
