Tuesday, October 08, 2013

Orpheus’s Death Published in Abramelin a Journal of Fine Poetry


Orpheus’s Death

when I wrote
of men folding in their tight skins
like an apple—
apples swelling inside me—
it was a mask

when I wrote of a god
standing near the
window dancing—
it was a mask

there are no apples
filling my hunger,
no god folding
in his skin,
there is only the memory

of my self
torn at birth
by my own music

No comments:

Post a Comment

Blog Archive