Calling a Wolf a Wolf

by Kaveh Akbar

The iron law of congestion: traffic expands to flood any available space. Keep a soul open and it’s bound to fill up with scum.

It’s exhausting, remaining humble amidst the vicissitudes of fortune. It’s difficult to be anything at all with the whole world right here for the having.

With sensitive enough instruments even uprooting a shrub becomes a seismic event. So much of living is about understanding scale—a tiny crystal dropped in a river turns the entire river red. The hands that folded me into my body were not punishing me nor could they ever be punished, while the hands of the idol sculptor were cut off and tossed to the dogs. This is proof of something,

there is a word for these fits of incomprehensible delight I said it last night when my mouth was full of cake

The boat I am building will never be done.