Monday, February 07, 2005

Possessed By Words

He thinks it all began with
Begin the Beguine — those pleats
of petals like Ecclesiastes. Now,
whether it’s hearsay or heresy, who’s
to say? Whether it unites or unties,
this word illness leads to silliness,
then stillness. How reverse the spell?
He remembers the mother
smearing her breast milk
into the baby’s eyes. The doing
of one thing the undoing of another.
How they said it was too late,
by the time they got to the hospital —
it was too late, the infection
was florid: meaning, like flowers.


4 comments:

Unknown said...

I like this poem.

That is all I have to say for now.

Thank you,
Didi

Chaty said...

Superbly interesting. Very, very fine.

Alberto

Peter said...

Thank you, Alberto, China. You are so sweet! Peter

Anonymous said...

Wonderfully intense flow of words