Poem: Anyway

Anyway—

I am alone.

Perhaps I always was.

Isn't everyone?

There is nobody to dissolve into,

and the ocean isn't asking me to.

Little by little

they become targets to knock off.

Tin stars.

Empty bottles.

The bright fake center

of a little quiet carnival.

And since I don't have an ally,

I don't have a witness.

I don't have a steady star.

Anyway.

Then I ask:

what good is time,

anyway?

Never a familiar.

Never the steadiness.

Never continuity.

No length of time

it takes to know a thing.

Still, a river learns its paths.

Winter learns

the land and trees.

A hand learns another hand

through the darkest hours.

And anyway, for my life,

only the weather

passing me

and us

by.

Nothing that gave a shit.

Or stuck.

Or wanted to stay.

Never continuation.

Anyway.

Never continuation.

Marni Fraser

06.22.2026

Photograph | 2026