August 19th, 2008

ozarque figure

Poem

Get Thee To

When I was very young I took the veil
and cut it into strips, and bound up wounds,
and stuffed it into crevices against the wind,
the wind they call Denial. "Never fail --
never fail!" the older sisters told me,
smacking the slender rulers against their palms.
"This world is spinning out, into mad orbit,
with nothing to brake it but poets and their psalms."
Hearing the sirens' wailing song, I trembled,
seeing the population all assembled,
wearing the reality rag. Achieving consensus,
at the cost of their lives. Buying it, soap by soap.
O ye who have long since abandoned hope:
I am coming back as fast as I can grope.