We began in the morning with vodka;
We ended at night on the bed.
They came looking for us in the shadows;
They found us at daybreak instead.
We were weary and weak with surrender;
We emptied our pockets, our hearts.
They asked us to stand at attention;
They told us to stick to our parts.
We were soaked in the tar of repentance;
We were feathered in scraps of regret.
They spoke in the voices of angels;
They were angry as saints when we wept.
We spent all the days in the desert,
We spent all the nights in the sea,
We begged and we begged them for respite.
They assured us we'd never be free.
Soon we trembled, we raged,
We corroded with hate.
They grew timid and small in their fright.
They pretended we were invisible;
We grew taller to colour their sight.
We soared over the rooftops to blind them.
We smothered their thick walls in oil.
We left them to dig by the wayside.
We littered the earth with our spoils.
We found the survivors; we finished them off.
We buried the olive branch deep
in the ground. They searched the world over--they folded.
We made sure it would never be found.
**
The first two lines are a translation of Nautilus Pompilius's Striptiz
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Eurydice
It was the first time you didn't smile.
I turned around
and there you were--
tiny in your hat and pea coat,
the storm in your face the prelude or the aftermath
and every part of you trembling
like a falling leaf
a fallen leaf
the final speck of autumn . . .
"Can we go," you fluttered, lacrimoso,
and walked on--
knees bent,
shoulders hunched,
pushing slightly against the mist
as if it hurt you
and resisted.
And I--
and I, rooted to that little patch of sidewalk--
I turn my head,
avoid the painful dance,
and wait.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
she watched the smoke the cigarette her hand
and felt the fissure form
frighten butterflies
already flapping in her gut
the silence turned her head
but not her eyes
as shadows darted in
and out of focus
across that marble mouth
that mouth like waves of sand crumbling
at the corners
filling empty valleys grain
by grain
the fissure widened
tearing her in half the collar bone
snapping with the pressure
until at last
she lay in a dustheap at her feet
**
she turned her gaze
searched a moment
smiled
and the fissure shut
snapping together like a magnet
and felt the fissure form
frighten butterflies
already flapping in her gut
the silence turned her head
but not her eyes
as shadows darted in
and out of focus
across that marble mouth
that mouth like waves of sand crumbling
at the corners
filling empty valleys grain
by grain
the fissure widened
tearing her in half the collar bone
snapping with the pressure
until at last
she lay in a dustheap at her feet
**
she turned her gaze
searched a moment
smiled
and the fissure shut
snapping together like a magnet
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
tonight let's dream of roses
and drift along their petal-paths
into a rounded maze
let's spin into the serpent's lair
let's run the course and wait
until a scarlet breath
finds succour in our veins
until the dust has settled
and all around are golden apples
ripe with memory
and drift along their petal-paths
into a rounded maze
let's spin into the serpent's lair
let's run the course and wait
until a scarlet breath
finds succour in our veins
until the dust has settled
and all around are golden apples
ripe with memory
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
the sun set
in a quandary
taking with it
a sharp breeze
a beaten cloud
a cup of salt water
knee-deep in sand
i coaxed the leaves
to hang still
as branches
mute
and shrivelled
**
last season
the trees were bare
last season
the snow fell slowly
and covered all my life
in a quandary
taking with it
a sharp breeze
a beaten cloud
a cup of salt water
knee-deep in sand
i coaxed the leaves
to hang still
as branches
mute
and shrivelled
**
last season
the trees were bare
last season
the snow fell slowly
and covered all my life
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