A contemporary poem about the hand points elsewhere, using a concrete image system, a pressured turn and a restrained open ending.
Listen
A recorded reading of “The Hand Points Elsewhere”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
The sign says north; my hand says home. I trust the hand and lose the road. Behind me, the afternoon closes its gate. Ahead, a dog carries a red glove. I follow that small impossible flag. Sometimes the wrong direction is the first one that feels alive.
Reader response
8 reader responses
Tap one signal for The Hand Points Elsewhere. It records a page-level response without asking for email or account details, and helps prioritize future revisions without interrupting the reading flow.
Choose one option to save feedback.
Discussion
Comment on The Hand Points Elsewhere. Your email is used to send a verification link and is not shown publicly. Comments may appear after verification and review.
A minor physical tilt alters every relation around it, exposing the hidden agreements that made the ordinary seem stable.
A surreal & fantastical poem about height, hand, horizon, where attention changes the scale of the ordinary.
A scale error turns the smallest detail into a governing world and the speaker accepts the correction without fixing it.
No published comments yet.