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Název:		Rave: Poems 1975-1999
Autor:
Rok vydání:		1999
Identifikátory:		9781556591266

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Anotace:	<DIV><P><B>The Choir</B></P> <P>I walk and I rest while the eyes of my dead<BR> look through my own, inaudible<BR> hosannas greet<BR> the panorama charged serene<BR> and almost ultraviolet with so much witness.<BR> Holy the sea, the palpitating membrane<BR> divided into dazzling fields and whaledark by the sun.<BR> Holy the dark, pierced by late revelers and dawnbirds,<BR> the garbage truck suspended in shy light,<BR> the oystershell and crushed clam of the driveway,<BR> the dahlia pressed like lotus on its open palm.<BR> Holy the handmade and created side by side,<BR> the sapphire of their marriage,<BR> green flies and shit in condums in the crabshell<BR> rinsed by the buzzing tide.<BR> Holy the light--<BR> the poison ivy livid in its glare,<BR> the gypsy moths festooning the pine barrens,<BR> the mating monarch butterflies between the chic boutiques.<BR> The mermaids handprint on the artificial reef. Holy the we,<BR> cast in the mermaid's image, smooth crotch of mystery and scale,<BR> inscrutable until divulged by god<BR> and sex into its gender, every touch<BR> a secret intercourse with angels as we walk<BR> proffered and taken. Their great wings<BR> batter the air, our retinas bloom silver spots like beacons.<BR> Better than silicone or graphite flesh absorbs<BR> the shock of the divine crash-landing.<BR> I roll my eyes back, skylights brushed by plumage of detail,<BR> the unrehearsed and minuscule, the anecdotal midnight<BR> themes of the carbon sea where we are joined:<BR> zinnia, tomato, garlic wreaths<BR> crowning the compost heap.</P> <P><B>Elegy</B></P> <P>Somebody left the world last night, I felt it<BR> so, last minute, last half-breath before the storm<BR> that hit all night last night drew back. Midmorning<BR> windows streaked with mud like sides of ears. How long</P> <P>the journey? Sails, the windowpanes the black<BR> thick tarp that kept the woodpile. Dry<BR> Southern wind, in minutes clothes bone-hard, clamped<BR> to the line. Clouds heaving in. The sky, the sky, who did arrive</P> <P>to kiss the eye behind the windswept sheet? Who was it, solo<BR> no longer, shy and desirous to be clean? What song<BR> arose, what crust between the lids<BR> spat and forgot? I woke, my fingers in my eyes</P> <</DIV>
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