Wednesday, March 4, 2015

HEART THREAD 239 & 240


You knew theology had to come of this
what else is interesting but to speak of gods
translate sex into language yields theology
discourse on the knowable written with your mind on something else
poetry at least is always about itself
but the poem has no self it is pure act
hence more or less useful to everybody like light
even in the dark you think about times you saw
and if I die before I wake
drive a red car to my funeral
do Beethoven with blue flowers
call me by your own names as you mourn.


But each of these is many more than one
time to talk big so I seem small
radishes from a lover’s garden
dense symbolism of the subway
Muscovite manners how soon they forget
I’m not complaining I’m admiring
a Renoir walking out of the loo
a cynical note a poke at Uncle Toby
I had no war of my own
my mental strife was all with me
I despair of the city he said
the city did this to me.