lovesong # 2

18 Sep

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lovesong # 2

 

“Spero ti siano arrivati insieme il telegramma e la lettera. Il mare mi ha rifiutato e ritornerò domani all’albergo Bologna, viaggiando forse con questo stesso foglio. Ho però intenzione di rinunziare all’insegnamento. Non mi prendere per una ragazza ibseniana perché il caso è differente. Sono a tua disposizione per ulteriori dettagli.”

– Ettore Majorana

 

after a couple of days

she was still sick

mushroom barley soup took about an hour’s grace

fresh porcini and dry chanterelles

carrots, onions, but skip the celery

she waits in bed in

faded dark sweatpants the color of chimney smoke

approved by Twain like a bathetic notary

some Mazar I Sharif for creativity and appetite

prescribed by my personal physician in Washington Heights

motionlessness leading into long stretches starting at the toes

sweating out the fever

through skin of pale elysian luxury

my lese majesty of romantic love

with a cupidity that only reveals itself nocturnally

a mammonism inside the shadowed mouth of carnal passion

the same carnival of glamorous and atramental colors

and the pygmalionism that’s resurrected her for me ever since  

was something that I languished on about

in my lament about our new lost generation a few years ago

despite knowing that this has always been a solitary desert proposition

an icarian compromise where the sea awaits me

much too tired of writing love poems on and on again

that claim no medicinal value

and so I brew some tea instead

and make a wager with this silenced war

that if time is indeed as chameleonic

as her mania

which churns out caprice and affection in equal doses

and in ten years

it finds me happy and hopeful and still writing

a novelist salaried by greedy deadlines

with a lover who’s no longer delicate and ailing

I will owe it a single favor

to be asked and paid in full

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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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