Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Goya Holds His Breath



184

A wish is a shadow song of light
Like the air in France, gone then waxing
Twinkling, rarified till the future makes it smaller, less defined.
Unlovely space eternity,
Best escape to an overheard past
Where one can let the heart go to the head
Where the world is a movement: a plunge into noise
A dangerous lovesong you could not buy
In the afterlife.
A mother’s wrath makes rings of revolutions on
An improbable world.
187

Are you there, flowing over the spent poet?
Hungry for the murder of moments you
Paid your way across the useless water no
Lent life lived but sinned in flight from voices and ghosts.
Intending immortality we marry instead and
in the bed we find ourselves are borrowed and
Submerged molecules of logic,
Prayed over but everchanging
Impatient form is the debt of living
The child of servants to the family of the waiting
Steady born vowel in the corner of drinking
Waiting to be covered by the waves of the prying.

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