Friday, February 14, 2014

Hearts & flowers

In honor of St. Valentine, here's a poem I wrote many years ago that contains "love" and the color red. (It appeared in a little sort of half-chap that H_NGM_N published years ago, and tweeted a link to this morning.)

After John Berryman

He asked himself, Am I having fun? How would I
know? The dancing was tiring,
young alien bodies slamming & prodding
from every side. He felt if he were still himself
he’d find some dim alcove for two

and perform out of self-love & -loathing
a glam murder-suicide, redundant
in action but not intention. This paisley loveseat’s
the colors of blood & semen, and anyway
who would see him?—Aha,

one hot girl hovered apart from the crowd
on the floor of the club, a superpowered girl,
caped in stealth, who turned everything she looked at
transparent, impossible to touch.
His hand went right thru himself. 

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