Nada Poem by Nicholas Green

The glittering nowt
Comes pouring out of days

It is an eruption of nothing
It is nix taken to extremes

It is the absence of an echo
In a rocky passage from the

High Sierras of intention
To the daily Badlands

And it glitters and how it shines:
A polished lump of zilch

That lodges in the vessels
Of a blood capable of

Counting the sides of a
Circle and capable of waiting

For nothing to happen
Until nothing happens,

When the glittering becomes
Sexy pointless wasteful blinding

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