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"tattoo" by mother dwarf
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Rockface:
Sestina After
the strange fog lifted I
saw his face. Our
love was darkening, coming
to a stand. Only
when it began to rain did
I fully feel his song. Or
was it the gentle hum of aftershock, a song- cycle
hauled, lifted, hoisted up a rusty pole, lifted from
the muck & fold of the heart's deepest cellar, your face poised
& ready for the light? And the darkening setting
in like an ulcer, slow & steady. Stand- ing
in the doorway, framed by oak & rain, on
the tin roof, pellets of rain make
out God's song. The
austere way he lifted His
face Made
me believe in the darkening, The
exact way to stand. Like
a soldier or street-mime, stand- ard
attire & blank-face. Or a sailor, rain, chanties
tucked in the fold of his hat, a simple song. 'O
Shenandoah, I long to see you'—Lifting his
rough & tumble hands to his face, to
the rounded breasts of the maidenhead. The darkening of
the spirit holds true to the darkening. Weekends,
we'll sip port & take a general stand. We
must take a stand against this awful rain. Instead,
let's sing joyful songs and
remember the way it lifted us—slapping
us in the raw face. Tournez.
Double-back. About-face. What
you see is what you get in this darkening light
called Love. The heart stands for
the world's greatest metaphor, rain slapping
against the window by your bed. Who will write a song for
what is not yet lost? Cupping her face, she lifted up
the only way a nymph is lifted, her angelic face darkening—miasma—her
form standing silent
in the rain, those first whispered lines of a song. |
