Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Blues for 2am

New poem...
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Blues for 2am

Blinded by the front room rug
Construct cat’s cradles of day to day.
With tea and memory I am PunchDrunk, honey

&

Reeling from a swift kick * lifting * and sick
Over body and soul. My man rocked me with one sturdy roll/
But not now no.
Now floating I wait for the gravity that brings hip to hip & lip/ to /lip.

Swallowing smoke rings, it is 2am.

Swallowing smoke rings

Swallowing smoke

Binding the blind light of hate to
The belly of this. As numb as nowt. As hopeful as knickers before a night out,
The hope that knows better…

But does it anyway

But does it

But does.

So I do it anyway.
In a river the colour of lead he said, Find
Ways to Feed the Dead. Ways to re-animate re-instate
But not Now, no.

For now I am leaving you, that corpse floating, on which I cut my teeth
Cut them to the nerve, and to the quick.
Because you never showed me how to do your trick, you
Kept it secret

Kept it

Kept.

Because it used to be said that I made the best jelly roll in town,
That I made waves like an earthquake in the eiderdown
I am sitting in the cold talking to eyes of downcast blue
Planning an epicenter.
But You, No.

You never saw it

Never saw it

Never

I raze you with silence from the sentence,
will level your temples, make cities new,
Arches in the honor of my reconstruction
Even as the bitterest hollows of my heart still love.

He lies in my bed a piece of white light embroidered
Hard With sleep, stretching his smooth belly along the sexy bed sheets
Like a snake and like you with his eyes just open, always watching.

He made of me a new religion,
Called me a goddess, bitchin’/
I said "Make unto me an idol

Baby,

But not now."

1 comment:

Edward Carvalho said...

Dear Danielle Plath - Here's to your knickers of hope.

You already know how much I enjoy your perspectives and your poetry, so, I won't gush and be forever known as a wannabe poet / boot-licker but I will say that
this is an extremely vibrant stanza:

"He lies in my bed a piece of white light embroidered
Hard With sleep, stretching his smooth belly along the sexy bed sheets
Like a snake and like you with his eyes just open, always watching."

I think you have another poem in this.

Have you read any Kevin Young? "Jelly Roll, A Blues" ? I believe he's a Harvard grad, as well.

As always, great stuff.