there were two green vines
neck-and-neck along a trellis
or you could look and see
two lovers long past thirty
necking on a terrace
or you could look away
and feel that I was
fucking you in Paris
at one time you couldn’t
even say that in a poem
even if we were never
in fucking Paris fucking
or weren’t we ever
weren’t we
1 comment:
I love the meta-thinking about the changing nature of what can be thought/said in poetry. And I simply love the poem's elegant capture: sort of reminds me of something out of Bresson. I think there's almost always a vegetal theme that runs through your poetry. Even here in the tracery of the lovers I sense a garden behind it. I love the way the impossible is limned here. I think you have a crush on the impossible. But what great poet doesn't? The possible is so disappointing to poets lol.
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