The Omniscient Narrator
On the staircase
she decided
she wasn’t a fan
of omniscient narration.
she decided
she wasn’t a fan
of omniscient narration.
An omniscient narrator couldn’t
word it like she would,
feel it like she did.
The omniscient narrator would only say,
“She was irritated.”
He would not feel buzzing nerves of aggravation
scratching inside ever finger
and multiplying up her arm.
The omniscient narrator would not
say it like she did,
“Leave me be!”
An omniscient narrator could repeat it,
but he could not scream it
until his voice went hoarse,
and he tasted blood.
It was then that
I threw the omniscience aside.
