Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Poem (after Sappho)

the wealthier homes
have occupied my voice
can say nothing now, yes
my language has cracked
is a slow, creaking fire
deadens my eyes, in
high, contorted concern
fuses to protein and rent


because your mouth is bitter
with executioners salt, perhaps
when you die, perhaps
you will flutter through Hades
invisible, among the scorched dead

may you vanish there, famished
through the known and unknown worlds


gretchen said...

This is really beautiful. Thank you.

Michael Weller said...

...when beauty barks i heal...