|Oct/Nov 2001 • Poetry|
Sonnet to the Age
Remember breasts and buds of breasts and breath
On breasts. Recall birth marks and moles and flesh
And creases, all those places running death.
The yellow brick road to the amen mesh.
Remember loins and mounds and finger thrums
That traced and trembled, tongues that swept, and trips
Into the forest, Gretel trailing crumbs.
And sleek snow thighs and toes and skating lips.
Now leaves go on the turn and men deplete.
So cudded cream will curdle, wine will sour.
And dark Leilani, Janine treacle sweet,
Depart the holy fields, and late s the hour.
But see! The Lord of Goodlove Castle's boat!
Organza swirls and mists blanket the moat.
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