Lustrum
Not less; only—different. Not
everything should be visible.
Wingdom:
doves. Not everything
can be. There are many parts
to the body. The light, like
I said. Gratia exempli, per
person more than one
heart. As, of hearts,
more than one kind.
As coin.
As thrust. To begin
counting is to understand
what it can mean, to
lose track. Is there nothing
not useful? Anything
left, anymore, private? Ambition,
like they said: little torch;
having meant to. Doom is
always in style somewhere
and, where it isn't, will
come back. Bird
in the bush, take me. Splendor:
nothing priceless. To believe
anything, to want anything—these,
too, have cost you. Flame,
and the beveled sword, set
inside it. This one,
this—what did you think
body was? What did you
mean when you said
not everything should
be said? The light as a tipped
cone, searching. The body
that breaks
finally, routinely faltering
before that. If a sword,
then without patience; if as
water–pearled, swift. What else
could you have thought,
when you thought
love–having known
the torch, having more than
meant to. Just watch me. Not
grand; only—distant. Weather,
and the bleachable skull,
set inside it. Locust-wind, small
through-the-yellow-sycamore
fingering wind,
Carry me,
let the prayer—valiant, up—
go. Some bright and
last thing
should.
Copyright Credit: Carl Phillips, "Lustrum" from The Tether. Copyright © 2001 by Carl Phillips. Used by permission of Farrar, Straus & Giroux, LLC, www.fsgbooks.com. All rights reserved.
Caution: Users are warned that this work is protected under copyright laws and downloading is strictly prohibited. The right to reproduce or transfer the work via any medium must be secured with Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC.
Caution: Users are warned that this work is protected under copyright laws and downloading is strictly prohibited. The right to reproduce or transfer the work via any medium must be secured with Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC.
Source: The Tether (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2001)