Love's Argo |
i am a boat
and sail your empty
ocean
my Argo’s artless cargo
the crippled minutes
that remember us
dismembering the heavens
and pinning memories
like butterflies
to the night
your father’s star
shone on
we are nothing
but everything fills us;
foolish flowers growing
through the snow, vampires
and pesticides, foeti
and decay, barbells
and hell, smelly
as life, or the wintering
that listens
tonight
what shall be the memory
you nail there
in your darkness
when my memory
is gone?
the tongue and the coming
and the dead man’s
blessing?
what shall linger on
when every forlorn orgasm is
forgotten?
previously published in Sub Lit 2007
copyright 2007
David
McLean |