Sunday, July 31, 2011

The Soft Edges of Metempsychosis

Eumaeus 606


raging singing at your reflection

sheltered in the cup of Abraham

your belladonna some concoction of rapt attention

its language Antediluvian

a poetry of the dead

a dissatisfied yawn a bloodless, quiet act

a reflection of quandary

a speech of sailors

the stare of the broken eye


these inward labels appear temporary

and have something to do

with our acquaintance with ice

Eumaeus 607

I asked for the night

and was shouted down

a gunshot at the sea

apparently, the water speaks my common name.

I asked for an eye

and some excessive feature

guessed my age

stared at pictures of the dead

and disregarded the weather

I asked for a drink

and newcomerjesus

sank heavily beneath the waves

body bound and turned around

Agony clutching a phony Irish cross.

Eumaeus 608

A face at the nameless window

has a story

like all stories this one has magic

and all stories are about


and memory

but this story is like a diamond and

you name your diamond astonishment

then, like all good mariners, you

sail into the beautiful sunrise

and greet the awful, perfect day.


Giovanni said...

i follow your blog and i am very impress with your style. glad that you share your drawings

Mike Tracy said...

Thank you, Giovanni