Monday, April 4, 2011

with deep respect

J.B. says near in his last breath
that he does not think he will sing anymore
just now;
not ever

And his last song comes
just after, the last umbilical chord severed:
but I am a young man
and I want (most) to sing or to stand;

want that postpartum hands will say of me when I have reversed
placenta and kelly clamps
that him who sang!, who sang, sings
even now when singing no more he can;

that I was in him somewhere below the guts, the happy man
who in the deep ruts of his despair is no more
in the lemonade or the lemons
but rather,

in the roots of the lemon tree.

No comments:

Post a Comment