Written
in glass-soaked lust, a girlfriend
Described
with pride and in stride, her boyfriend:
How
he changed the brake pads, built a swing
From
the old oak with a heart,
How
his mission and multitude always pulled
From
seas of confidence, steadfast in their winds;
And
my heart screams, "I could, too, if only a chance!"
"Maybe
I could, too…" as scream morphs to whisper,
For
a lack of a listener, a failing of fitness,
There
remains no witness.
All
that I've built with my hands is the same
As
the crash in the forest that no one heard;
And
when I go to my long home, will the fallen timbre
Tell
a story to dry passersby and the lustrous
Rainwater
gypsies—"What happened here?" they will say,
"Not
much, I suppose. I'll continue on my way."
There
is no consolation gift, no pittance
For
one without a witness.
I've
dreamed, and loved, and failed;
And
ten thousand failures and a handful
Of
raptures, and failure to derail
Until
time squeezed juice still tart
From
what Nature declared was past its time;
I
poured a cold glass with love and lime,
Mortared
the workdays, savoured the sublime,
And
rested in oubliettes of outer space.
And
I desired a witness for my penance,
For
my remembrance, and my sentence—
Like
sweet water dives from moss-scented rock,
On
Tuesday let me fall to the lagoon,
Collapse
in the dew of a flower,
Pour
bourbon over my nose and drown.
I
will smile out loud at the river Styx,
Beat
Charon at cards, and tour the town.
***
I
craved a lover with amber essence,
Not
acquiescent, but roaring with fire
In
her tesseract mind. And she builds,
And
solders, and smolders, and lives with
Fury
that makes the crowd exhale: "Goddamn."
And
she’ll testify when I die, "I did witness.
He
changed the brake pads, and so did I.
We
were a team; we washed with pumice,
And
made cherry pie, and for my life,
He
also testified...that I am fierce."
So
shall the Puck pull at his lashes
At
last, before moon fever and winter fast
To
confess he sprinkled just a little bit
Of
fairy mojo on us. He'll walk his way
With
a smile, and say "He was cautious, but wild.
But
also lucky I came along, because he couldn't
Hold
a tune, write a song, touch her heart
Without
my assistance; the forest is my witness."
And
with that vision of derision,
I'll
take my medicine, sleep another hour,
Before
a silent blanket overtakes me with the workday,
Where
I'll dream of streams and gorges and sunlight
Beyond
the time when I last atoned, and a question,
Unanswered:
"Will I find a witness?
Or
will I die alone…when nurses forget
Their
own footsteps? Will I die in a room that's cold?"
I'd
rather be ripped by a lion under clouds;
I'll
take the fear and burning bright of day;
I'd
rather bleed and paint the soil red
With
my face ablaze under noon pool sky
Than
lie in that bed alone as nurses walk by
(Walk
to and fro as Daniel said), lost in duty
Amid
waves of cosmic rays and galactic song,
As
I decay witness-less until all is gone.
