THE CENTER
OF NEW NEED
(journey through age)
All this accounting for nothing
and now look at where you are
bound : the girl sitting at that table,
staring back at you as if you were
Lord. Her heralded pink brushes bat
back nothing so much as desire. Oh
where am I, and where are we to go?
Waiters bringing singsong pastries on
a wooden tray. From inside, I look at
you and see it is me : we are all these
things, and that fey fellow, Harold, he
will bring us a check. But must we tip
him too? There is no solace here, not
in any of this idle hotel chatter. Park
the car, take his bags, ring him up,
get a key and find the door.
-
How many floors has Heaven?
How many stairs its stairway?
Is there room at the top for another?
I and you, I and me, we and they,
they and we. Words. Oh horrid and
tiresome all these things. How many?
I will sit and read in this big chair.
I will sit back. Your breasts are quite
lovely. Yes, go ahead, I will wait.
Finish your tasks.
-
I first read the Bible at age nine -
what hideous stuff past the start.
All that lineage and all those names.
Oh God, fearsome fire-bringer-of-fury
but God of desire. Yes, yes, I know and
I don't see - your naked beauty is a
thing to me. Your naked beauty
is for me to see.
-
In writing your will, old woman,
leave me nothing at all. I will scratch
off your name from this headboard -
and look, just look where you are now
bound. An old face, and dried and
wrinkled as well. (I do remember
things, and still have much to tell).
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