I am the Princess of Life Gone Out I am the sunless parallel in the vertical Two spirits forming out of the quiet by day & the native by night Most demure, Jane most meditative of you to broadcast the velvet of an inner thigh of the nymph in the summer sky & for the last secret effect before it goes out over the airwaves tell me something equally heavy which leads the dancers to the hanging of their red-hot tights to the line setting the sun Now is the time, whichever you like better, friend, all inferior beautiful thing Her skin is whiter than milk her tan is darker than beer in the shadow of special dispensation like for a Jew the absolute saints sighing & fairies crying all over their invisible members Random cradle starting up like a life in me Don't be surprised if I laugh the shore says to the water every time you win in the end but live where since we didn't know of any place to stay to take in an even smaller part of everything a case of a sacred object not making its escape toward evening a cow implanted in the video arcade of a Midwest mall a small head nobody will believe I did it Saturday night after the movie let out seized like a biker with hazel eyes like headlamps turned yellow If it's such a deep secret no one will verify it Goethe has to describe the beautiful folds of Christ's garment raised off the ground exposing one knee before we get a sense of internal space automatic freaks like auto freaks through a wheatfield In my heart I have a memory of you but not the brain to decipher it god the wind as windless as the world behind a computer screen Out of the air-conditioned inferno in the broad street high school girls bleach holes in the darkness of Clinton Avenue I stand like Ozymandias on Quaaludes missing whom I miss once in reverence & once in despair I dreamt we got both harbors | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LORD, HEAR MY PRAYER; A PARAPHRASE OF THE 102ND PSALM by JOHN CLARE WHEN I'M KILLED by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES SONNET: 45 by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY ANACTORIA by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE FATHER, THY WILL BE DONE by SARAH FLOWER ADAMS LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS |