EXEQUIES FOR YOUNG MEN

EXEQUIES FORYOUNGMEN

(PREPONDERANTLY) !963-2018

WunderlichnahistderHelddochdenjugendlichToten.

Rilke

DuineserElegien,6

PAVANEFORAPERIWINKLE 1

THEDEATHOFPAULSCHULTZ 2

INMEMORY:PAULSCHULTZj 5 (Darknight.Nomoon.… 8

LAMENTOFAYOUNGJEWISHMALE 10 Parahdead,at32,inbattle.… 12 thiswoodthishurtthisslowdeath… 13 NIGHTFLIGHT 17 UNDERPASS 21

ASNAPSHOTOFMYFATHER 22 INFANTKNOWLEDGE 23 MEDIAMAN 24 THEDEATHOFPETRUSKA 27 THEDEATHOFTOMMYSIMPSON 28 FORTONY 31 ENDYMION 32 REVOLUTION 34 Christisaflower… 35 Duringthedissection… 36 CZECHOSLOVAKIA 38 DEATH MASQUE 39 SKETCHESAFTERWATTEAU 40 ORPHEUS 42 LEKEU 44 HYACINTHUS 47 DAEDALUSINCUMAE 48 GOODFRIDAY 51 THEMURDEROFCOUNTVONSPRITI 52 FOURMEN PROGRAMMEFORASYMPHONY 57

ASUMMERGAME 80 GALATÉE 81

FORJOCHENRINDT 83 NARCISSUSDYING 85

THEDEATHOFYUKIOMISHMA 86 BALDERDEAD 88 (Ayellowstar,Juden,proclaiming… 90 THEDOPPLEREFFECT 92

THEFEASTOFTHECIRCUMCISION 97

LIPATTIPLAYINGSCHUMANN 98 GOLGOTHATRIPTYCH 99 Hewept.… 103 PASADENA 104

SELF PORTRAITATTHIRTYTHREE 105 ThebloodofIrelandflowsagain… 107 Theherolaydead.… 110

Thetracksofourancestors… 113 Gatwickairport… 114 CZECHOSLOVAKIA: 4YEARSAFTER 117 OLYMPISCHETOTEN 118 hewouldnotraisehiseyesorlifthishead… 119 DREAM SONNET 120 THEMOSAICMAN 121 DEATHOFANAVIATORI 123 PROMETHEUS 124 Inthedarkness… 125 MAHLER71973(NewYear’sEve) 128 THEDEATHOFACTAEON 129 SHECHEM 131 DEATHOFANAVIATORII 133 TRIPLESESTINA 136 SCOREFELL 139 EPITAPHFORNIGELPRICE 140 ECLOGUES - HAMLETINHOPLANDS 141 CHRISTMAS‘77 161

Andhewentdownontothebeach,.. 162 THEFEBRUARYPOOL 164 POLYNEICESUNBURIED 165 FROMTHEANGLO SAXONCEMETERYNEARDOVER 166

EUROPEAFTERTHERAIN 167 MAYDAY 168 METAMORPHOSES 169 OVIDAMONGTHESCYTHIANS 170 THEFACTORY 172 THESONGOFTHECOAT 177

DIESELBSTSEHER 178

DOGDAYS 183

DEPARTURES 184

GIOVANNI’SSEARCH 186 L’IMPRÉVU 187

THEDEATHOFOSCARROMERO 188 THETRIUMPHOFAPOLLO CYPARISSUS’SLASTERECTION 190 THETRIUMPHOFSELENE ENDYMION'SFIRSTWETDREAM 192

INNERLICHKEIT 194 Early… 195 THEBRACELET 197 a … 199

THECHESTNUTSELLERS 202 JEWISH CHRISTIANDIALOGUE 205 KEATSDYING 206

OCTAVEOFTHENATIVITY 207 COCKTAILHOUR 208 CANCERPATIENT 210

TOBEN: ATTHEWINTERSOLSTICE 212 LAULTIMACÉNA 215 FORGUY 216

ASHANDSNOW 217 Aflurryonthegrassandheisgone 218 CHANGINGATSCHOOL 219 BLACKPOOLPIETÁ 220

NOTESFROMUNDERGROUND 221 Icrouchbesideyourbody 224 Wewentforthinthemorning 225

THEFEASTOFALLFOOLS 226

«The minim’s farewell to his donkey body » 227 LATOUSSAINTÀPARIS 228

LABELLEAUBOISDORMANT 229

HERLASTLONDONCONCERTREVISITED 231

SAINTBARTHOLOMEW’SDAY 234

THEBALLADOFCHAUS 235 GUYFAWKESLASTMESSAGE 240

TWOVILLANELLES. 241

ImetaperiwinkleasIwalkedalongthesand. Islowlykneltbesideitandlifteditinmyhand. Itopeneditsshelltolookatme,itseyeswereblueandclear, Withmelancholysadnessitwhisperedinmyear.

“I’vebeensolongacaptive,Iwanttogooutside, Iwanttoseetheoceans,andswimagainstthetide, Iwanttohidefromseabirds,andfeelthesaltybrine, ButIhavealwaysbeenafraidtoleavethishomeofmine. Iseethefishesplaying,Iseethemliveanddie, Iseethemstruggleasthey’recaughtanddraggedtowardsthesky, ButthoughIdonotfeeltheirgrief,Idonotknowtheirjoy, AsIamalwaysfastenedtothebottomofabuoy. AndwhileIliveheresafely,thoughIhavenofearofhell, Iwillnevergettoheavenfromtheinsideofthisshell. Helpme,Ohpleasehelpme!”itutteredwithacry “IwanttoleavethisprisoncelljustoncebeforeIdie.”

Ilifteditfromouttheshellandplaceditinthefoam: ItswamawayanddisappearedandIwentslowlyhome. NextdayIwanderedonthesandintheearlylightofdawn. Theperiwinklelaythere,bleedingandbatteredandtorn. Ilifteditupgently,andputitinmypalm.

“I’msorry,”Isaid,“sosorry,toseeyoucometoharm.” Itansweredinawhisper,itsvoicewasfaintandweak, YetclearlyIheardeverywordasitbegantospeak.

“Ohdon’tbesorry,mygoodfriend,althoughIhavetodie. It’syouwholiberatedme,andyetIhearyousigh. Thisisnotimeforsadness,thisisnoplacefortears. Ihavelivedmoresinceyesterdaythanalltheotheryears.

Ifeltthewarmthofsunlight,Ifeltthecoldofrain, Ilayinsilverymoonlight,andIfeltthejoyofpain. Ifelttheworldaroundme,withoutashieldbetween.

Truthwasallabounding,Oh,thesightsthatIhaveseen!

Igrabbedatlifewithbothhands,Itriedtoeatitwhole. IfImustdie,whatmatter? ForIhavefoundmysoul.

Youfreedme,sobehappy: Youmustpromisethatyouwill.”

Itcoughedandtwitchedasecond,thenitshudderedandlaystill.

IwalkedalongthelonelyshoreuntilIfounditsshell. Igentlyplaceditinthehomethatithadknownsowell. Istopped,andknelt,andblessedit;thenpusheditouttosea. ItwastheleastthatIcoulddo,forithaddiedforme.

THEDEATHOFPAULSCHULTZ

Isawthreeguardstakeaimandfire

OnChristmasDay,onChristmasDay, Isawthreeguardstakeaimandfire OnChristmasDayintheevening.

Andwhatwasinthosegunsallthree OnChristmasDay,onChristmasDay, Andwhatwasinthoseheartsallthree

OnChristmasDayintheevening.

Achargeofdeathtosethimfree

OnChristmasDay,onChristmasDay, Ablastofhatetosethimfree OnChristmasDayintheevening.

OnChristmasDayintheevening, Attwilight,justneartheevening, AyoungEastBerliner,shotdead

Tryingtoescapeoverthewall, Tryingtoobtainfreedom

OnChristmasDayintheevening; Tryingtobreathe,hislungsshotwithlead, Hischestheaving; Fightingfor,gaspingfor...hisbreathfreezing OnChristmasDayintheevening.

AGermanboy,bullet-crucified AgainsttheBerlinwall, Shotoutofseason; TheagonyofEaster Withoutreason

OnChristmasDayintheevening.

Andnursinghishead

Intheircollectivehands

TheWesternWorldwasgrieving: Becausethestriplinglad, Unprepossessing,small, HadbecomeapartoftheBerlinwall, Set,foreverdying,inthestonesofthewall (Thewallthatwasnowsilentlyleaving) Diamond-like,permanent,all Glitteringmonstrousandtall, Againstthediminishing,dividingwall⁷ OnChristmasDayintheevening.

INMEMORY:PAULSCHULTZ

MyGod! Myangerstillisunappeased. Themonthshavepassed,almostanentireyear Haspassed,likealltheotheryearsbefore, Yetunlikeeveryotheryear; Madeimmemorial,andmore Thanamemorial

Ofstoneormarble,incorruptiblerock; Acenotaphoffleshandbloodandbone; Thebloodstill,thefleshrottednow,onlythebone Remaining,cold, LyinginagraveinEastBerlin. How Canthisfleshlessmemory Ofsomeobscure,half-forgottendead Beanimmaculatemonument? How

Canthisbemycenotaph?

Youmayask.

Yettherearelastingpillarsintheheart Whichcannotbedefaced,cannotdecay: Thefragilegold-leafofthislostyounglife HasburntdeeperinthanIknew; Muchdeeper,inmyheart’sflesh,thanIknew: Cauterisedthere

Bythehotbullets

Whistlingandtearingthroughtheair: Permanentgoldlettering,stillpainfulthrough Thescar-tissuewithwhich Themonthshavevainlytriedtorenew Myheart.

Ifyouremoveditandhelditinyourhand, Stillbeating,youwouldfind Itburnished,copper-coloured,glisteningwet; Theblood-redmixedforevernowwithgold. DeeperthanIknew,deeperthanIwished Toknow,atfirst: Toodeep,perhaps: Butthere,allthesame,sowhatcanIdo.

Eachswirl,eachuglyloop

Ofwire,barbedandsilhouettedblack Abovethewall, Islikeacrownofthornspresseddown Upontheforeheadoftheworld,uponthebrow Ofallmankind.

Wineischangedtovinegarandwater Bythesenselessslaughter... Sothatnow,nomatterwhatchangesmay Takeplace,intime,whatsofteningofhearts, Whatfreeaccess

BetweentheEastandWest, Nothingcanchange,nothingcantakeaway Thatmomentoutoftime

ThatOneyoungDeathonChristmasDay.

Yearsfromnow,whenthewallisgone AndBerlinisacityonceagain, WhenGermanyiswhole,perhaps Theworldcanthenforget. Perhaps PaulSchultzhimselfcanrest

Atlast,andleavethespotwherehewasshot, (StilllyingthereinspiteofwhatIdo).

Perhapshisrestlessghostcanleave Theemptysiteofwhereawalloncestood; (Whereonlytheghostofthestonesstillstand ToremindMan Ofallthebloodofthepast.) Perhapswhentheworldiswholeagain MancanforgetandHecanrest Atlast.

ButIshallnotforget,PaulSchultz; Ishallneverforget: Aslongasmanhardenshisheartandhates, Andkills,andhates,andkillsagain, Icanneverforget.

Ibelieve InGod,andIbelieve InMan: (ManmayrememberandManmayforget)

ButOhmyGod,aslongasMan Hardenshisheartandkillsandhates YouGod,inhisfellowman, Imosthumblybelieve ThatIwillrememberandIwillgrieve For MyGod! Myangerstillisunappeased.

(Darknight. Nomoon. Barbedwirevaguelysilhouettedagainstsky. Deathlysilence. Maninuniform wandersonstage. Hestops,lightsacigarette. Relaxes. Thenhestiffens. Sniffsasifsmelling somethingonthewind. Raiseshisrifleasifinwarning. Ayouthstumblesin.)

MAN:

Stop. Halt. OrIshoot.

No.Don’tshoot. Weknoweachotherhere Asonlystrangerscan.

Youwon’tbethefirstmanI’veshot Andyouwon’tbethelast.

Iwastryingtoescape. Overthewall. Butthenightwassodark ThatIlostmyway Themist Cameupsoearly. Ididn’texpectit. AndI’vebeenwanderingforhours Lookingforaway. Itwassoquiet. IthoughtI’dwanderedoffintothecountry. Somewherestrangeandremote. Andthen Igaveupanddecidedtogoback. ButIcouldn’t. Iwaslost. And I’velivedhereallmylife. InBerlin. ThenIsawyou. AndIwasglad. IknewyouwereaguardbutIwasglad Toseesomebody. You. Aliveatleast.

BOY:

MAN: HaltIsay

BOY:

Iwasafraid. Idon’tknowwhy. But Iwasafraidmoreofthenightandthesilence

ThanIwasofyou. Themistwasquiet Andunfamiliar. Andmyheartstopped.

Tobreathseemedoutofplace Inaplacesooutoftime

Asthis. AndwhenIsawyouIwasglad. IknewImightdie,thatyoucouldshootme Ifyouwantedto. Butdeathwassoremote

OnthenightthatChristwasborn ThatIthoughtI’driskit.

MAN:

ChristriskedgoingintoJerusalem AndendedupwithfivemoreholesinHim Thanhestartedoutwith. Ifyouwant I’lldothesameserviceforyou. Ican’tsupplyacrossornails,but I’llbegladtoshootfourholesinyourhandsandfeet Andfinishyouoffwithmybayonetintheside. Ican’tentombyouorwrapyouinashroud ButIcanleaveyouhereintherainandsunforaweek Andthebirdsmightpeckthroughyourpantsandmoveyourstones. Ican’tpromiseyouaresurrection Oranythinglikethat,I’mafraid. Butthestraydogswillbeverygrateful. Andyou’llhaveservedsomeusefulpurpose.

BOY:

It’sstrangeyoushouldwanttokillme Tonight,whenChristbroughtlifeintotheworld.

LAMENTOFAYOUNGJEWISHMALE.

Iwascircumcisedatanearlyage inasynagog,witharabbi’s hardcoldhandsworking mechanicallyovermylivingflesh,his voicechantingalmostmechanically; hehaddoneitsooftenbefore. Aritualoldandformal,but newtome,coldandhardandcruel tome;becomingaJewforthefirsttime. ButIdonotrememberitnow. Iremember growingupthough;Iremember goingtoschoolwithmyfriends intheearlymorning,pastthechurch withthecrossontopandmyfriends laughedandsaid: They’regentiles. AndafterbarmitzvahwhenIwasaman sotheysaid,somyparentstoldme, Irememberthinking: NowIamaman Imustmakemyowndecisions. AndtheLawofMosesseemedterriblyhard andterriblystiffandunyielding. Andthesynagognowseemedterriblycold. AndIfeltalonewhenIprayed. Ifelt alonetillIdiscoveredJesusChrist andfellinlovewithHislove. His agonyseemedtometobethe agonyofallhumanity andHislifewasthelifethatIcraved. SoItoldmyfatherandmyfathersaid: ‘ButyouareaJew,myson’. AndIsaid: ‘Idon’twantthejusticeofJove,father;I wanttheloveofChrist.’ Andmyfathersaid: ‘YouareaJewandyoualwayswillbeaJew Youmustnotturnfromthefaithofyourfathers, youmustneverturnyourback. Youcannever escapefromthefaithofyourfathers;yourpenis won’tletyouforget.’ AndIsaid: ‘But manyChristiansarecircumcisedtooso whyshouldn’t…’ Buthestoppedmeandsaid:

‘Youwerecircumcisedinasynagog byarabbiwhenyouwereachild:

TheChristian’scircumcisionismeaningless, performedinahospital,donebyadoctor whentheforeskinistoolong.

ButyouwerecutofffromChristforever bytheknifeoftherabbiinsacredrite.’ ‘ButJesushimselfwasaJew.’ Isaid: ‘Jesushimself…’ Butmyfathersaid: ‘Christisforeverastrangertous; Christisastrangertoyou;youareforever aJew.’

SoafterthatIthrewintheglove; Christdiedinmyheart;IforgotaboutJesus’ eternallove;IforgotaboutJudaismtoo. AndlaterImarriedandhadason anddespiteeverythingthatI’dsaidandheard Iwatchedhimbeingcircumcisedundermyeyes andIneversaidaword.

ButI’malwaysreminded,wheneverI’mpissing, Thatpartofmylifewithmyforeskinismissing.

Parerdead,at32,inbattle.

Fournier,at27,ontheMeuse.

Lekeuateanice,anddiedoffever.

AndReubke,bothmusicians,bothat24.

AndKeats,andalltheotherclassiccases. “Whomthegodslove.”;suchahackneyedphrase. Yet,strangely,inthemidstofdeathandsorrow Icanseelove,andIcankneelandpray

thiswoodthishurtthisslowdeathandthiscrucifixion theydidnottellmethatitwouldbesohard torealisethatit’s allcometothis

thisbodyofminehasgrownintothewood ableedingtrunkofresin myveinsstiffenmyfleshacrustofbark mybackdraggedbackovertheseveredtree jointsunsocketedmybodyOGodmybody thathaslovedandbeenlovedsowell hascometothis mockeryofabody

Iworshipped thefirmfleshofmyyouth howmanyhands rosewarmonmybreathing

howmanytookthepath myownfirsttookdiscoveringforthemselves eachcountrymyexploringhandshadvisited leapintheirhandswithunconsciousdelight howmanybodiessweatedundermysweatingforce mybackarchedbackinoverarchingsilence tautasabowstringvibratingintolife thearrowspentinitswelcomingtarget woodtowoodjoinedtheflowingsap fasteningthelivebranchtothemotheringtree whereIhangOGodOGodthesememories stillfeedmyfleshIfeelacoiling wherenohandcouldreach nowtheclothhangs looseaboutmygroinandlowandmoveswithme

andOmyGodifitshoulddropandleavemebare orifthebulgingheadshouldpushpastthetopandrisethere inonelastmockeryofstreaminglustandnakedness whileromansoldiersmockatmeinmydistress baredtothesoulofpumpingquiveringflesh paredbytheknifeoftheirlaughtershiveringagain likethattimethoseshoutingboysprancedaroundmein thegrimeofthestreetmypantswavingabovetheirheads mycircumcisionglintinginthesunoftheirjeering theireye-beamsstirringthefirstmovementsofmysinning repeatedinmylastlustthefirsthumiliation OhhhhhhthankyouGodforthispainthisspeedyend thisclimaxpassedunnoticedinaspasmofdeath thattricklesdownmylegswiththemuckandtheblood themillingcrowddonotlookupdonotknow thankyouGodforsparingmethislasthumiliation itwillneverriseagaindeathwillrisefirst tostiffenmealloverandnowitlies softandwarmandplumpasawormagainstmyleg snuggledlikeababylyingonmychest tiredafterwardsandsleepingscarcelybreathingO GodOGoddoesmysinningdeservesuchpeace

thisdarkthispainthissilenceandthisdeaddirection mythoughtstakeonthenarrowingpathtonothingspared nothingandatmywits deadenddeathless

M M M O M M O M M O M M H M A H M A H M A A M A A M A M

thespringisburstinginthetreeandI hanghereonthisdeadcrossofwoodburstingtheseams ofmybodyinafloweringofbloodyleaves

Hestillhangstherebesidemepassiveandstill isHedeadalreadynoHisbellystillbeats gentlyHehassufferedmuchofpainandhumiliation HeshuddersinthesunasifthebeamshurtHim HeharmednooneyettheytreatHimworsethanus Hisbodyreekswithbadfleshgobsofdryingspittle hangfromHiswoundsthethornsroundHisheadoozeblood HiseyesareblackandswollenonemanpissedatHim ComingupthehillawomanlaughedtoseeHispain andHedidnothingapoorcrazyfanatic whoharmednoonesotheysaidandHeendsup herewithusGodI’mgladIhavebeenwicked whenIseeHimgoodanddyingwithushere Iamgladofeverytheftandfornication andblasphemyGodyouhypocriteYouunjustswine goodandbadendrottingtogetherunderYoursun andwilllietogetherforeverundertheearth YoufuckedintolifewhyGodwhy maketheguiltyandinnocentdietogetherinthesameagony strangemercypreparingusforthedeathofthebody byslicingoffthetendereightdayforeskin thechildshouldcryfromthenuntildeath continuouslynobeforethat(rightatbirth thebloodycarnagestartsandendsherebleedingagain morecruellyjoinedtoanewdeadmother) andafterthisperhapsthepaindoesn’tendhere

NIGHTFLIGHT

(Ayoungman,possiblyaSpaniard,livinginaforeigncity,stowsawayintheholdofaplanebound forhishome,notrealisingthatthesub-zerotemperatureofhighaltitudeflying,outsidethe pressurisedcabin,willkillhim. Hisfrozenbodyisdiscovered,whentheplanelands,dressedonly inapairofjeansandacottonshirt:suitableattirefortheweatherhehadexpectedwhenhegot home.)

Thenightexpiresinmyarms. Iamcold. Thedarkness iscoldaroundmeand insidemyheartisbeatingcold

bloodthroughmyveins. Theplanelookedwarm. Thewindowsglowedwithlight. Arowofgoldensuns initsside. Iwantedmyhome.

Whyisitsocoldnow? Iknow insidetheyaredrinking hotcoffeeandthinking ofhomeorholidaysandhow

tospendtheirtime:clinkingice-cubes thatshiveringlasses; relaxinginthesun. Soonthesunwillwarmmeagain.

ButIamsocoldnow. Myears areringing. Theengines, roaringbesidemyheart, tearthesilenceoutofthenight.

Atleasttheshiveringhasstopped. Domyhandswarmmyballs ormyballswarmmyhands? Atleasttheshiveringhasstopped.

IfIhadknown. Icouldhavebrought..... Mysoulfreezesover. Fishswimbeneaththeice. Theuniverseiscoldanddead

andIamfrozeninitswomb, unborn,nevertobe born. Inmydamppalmlies aniciclethatdoesnotmelt.

Thecoldstiffnesscreepsfrommygroin, lustlesslyreversing motion: Inmybody sharpspermsoficedeadentheveins.

ThroughthewallsIsensealiving soclose. Near. Crouchedherein thebellyoftheplane, Ialmostfeelthem. AmIdead?

Isthisawomboratomb? Is itbirthorisitdeath?

Flyingabovetheworld whohasstoppedflying. Ican’tcry.

Itistoocold. Iamtooold toworryaboutdeath. Mylifeissoftandlimp andcurledinthewombofmyhand.

Easingsomething. Callthemidwife. Iknowtheycanhearme. No. Theyaredead. Alldead. Thepilotlifelessatthewheel.

Thepassengersturnedtodrybones. Iamalone. Theair isscatteringmyflesh. Itshootsthroughthenightskystar-like;

burningblueintheatmosphere. Amcold. GOD. Andalone. Takemehome. Takemehome. Thestarswhirlaroundmelikespheres

ofcolddeadflesh. Oneineachhand: Thesuninmy9 righthand; themooninmylefthand. Thecandleofmylifeflickers.

Butthereisnoheat. Mymother hatesmeinhercoldwomb. Letmebeborn. Metal forcepsclaspmyheadinavice.

Dragmefromthishardsteelmother. Myfatheristhesea. Iplummetdown. Hewaits towashtheafter-birthfromme

inhiswaves. Totakemebackhome tothesun. Carryme along,taddy,likeyou donethroughthetoyfair! Shoulderhigh!

Letmeseethedistance. Letme settleherenearyourhead; againstyourfoam-whitehair thatblowsmindlesslyonmyface.

Theworldiswhiteandlovelynow. Aseagullfatheredme. MyMother,agreatseabird, droppedmeinthefoamasshepassed.

WhenthesteelshellbreaksIamfree: Agullegginonehand, alandegginth’other: Thebrokenshellformstheearthandsea.

Thesunliftsmeonhisbrightwings towardstheskyIfly farfromthisstarthisworld andthesunsthatburnanddieand

insidemyheartisbeatingcold, aroundmeiscoldand coldamI. Thedarkness, thenightexpiresinmyarms.

UNDERPASS

¡Underpass withacityabove sweatingseepage intothiscatacomb Underground awhite-tiled urinalworld echoesemptiness!

¿Shouldthesewalls beheapedwiththebones ofmartyredcommuters ingrinningrows

Ifourcar stalledtoadeadstop revealingthehorror ofthisotherlife?

ASNAPSHOTOFMYFATHER

Theflashbulbisolatesthemfromthegloom ofthesurroundingbeach. Myfather’shand restsonthemarlin’sfin. Acrosstheyears, myfather,youngerthanIknewhim,smiles.

Alive,withthatdeadfish,hishiddenglance seemstocontainthecertaintythatI, unbornyetfortwomonths,shall,withhimdead, findthisoldphoto. Isthatwhyhesmiles?

Father,Ineverknewyou. Myincrease mirroredtheincidentofyourdecline: ReachingthebeachIfoundthatyouweregone.

Wemeetthough,here. Thisfadingno-man’s-land unitesuswithitsage,yourage,myage. Toolate,weknoweachother,andyousmile.

INFANTKNOWLEDGE

Thetinychild,frail,indiscreet, onthecurb,tearful, Knowsthereisnothinggoodorsweet tomakehimcheerful, Seeingthefuture,violent,bleak, stretchinginruin, Cryingthereonthecrowdedstreet, knowswhathe’sdoing.

MEDIAMAN

WhatcanIdo: Icannotdo whatIcannot.

WhatcanIsay: rhetorictrips meup-Iknow

itistoofast. Manwasnotmade fortheagony ofthewholeworld; butstillitcomes andhemustswallow itatonegulp. Manwasnotmeant forpainatan universal level. Itis toosoonforthat.

Sufferingfor himself,hisfriends andfamily, andthebeggar whopasseshim onthehighway issufficient, atpresent,to fulfilhisneeds-

andthebeggars! Itisenough. Andmoreismore

thanhecanstand perhaps. Itis toomuch. Itis

inhisliving-room tooquickly afterthedeed.

Thereisnotime forhimtosay: Ithaspassednow.

Thereisnotime forhimtothink itout. Itgoes shootingthroughhim likeabullet, aflashofpain, anditsinksaway andislost;but tonopurpose.

-Imustpray,both forVerwoerdand hisassassin-

NightlyKingHerod walkstheair-waves. Theinnocent areslaughteredby histenmillion televisionsets.

Doesoneescape? Theairisfilled withdyingcries.

Therearenomorechildren.

Idwellinthe centreofthe greyscreen:asmall

glimmeroflight, electrical orotherwise, likeabubble atthecentre ofanice-cube.

Immobilised, Iamfrozen bytheworld’sgrief.

THEDEATHOFPETRUSHKA

Acrysoundedonthepath. Thestallsclosed. Thecrowddispersed. Aflutter,liketheflutterofbirds, Oroftheheart,orlikethequick,small Pulsingflutterofsex. Stuffing Oozedfromthebreach. Sawdust

Tosawdust,ragstorags. TheMoorhadlainhimlow Anddisappearedintolife Withhisbrightstrumpet. Thus Helay,abusedsoanddying Onthefair-ground. Thushedied, Anddyinglefthismortalrags

Toshriekafinalcurseathiscreator, Tosemaphorehishateabovethepaintedboothes Anddieagain,hisswingingghost Forgettingitsownmortalpuppetsoul

THEDEATHOFTOMMYSIMPSON

I

Cyclewheelsturn, bytheirverynature, slowlytoastop somewhereintime:

Apointisreached, thelastrevolution iscomplete,and theheelbreaksback; fullatonce ofslippingagony, andstill andpeacefulandlonely

Acoldwhitehand, sculptured,Venetian, holdsthewheel betweenthumbandforefinger:

Grave,benedictory, itblessesthewheel thatmuststop, blessestheheel, blessesthewhole lovely,unworthy, sublime flashofhumanity

FORTOMMYSIMPSON

Poor Tommy, Your cycle is complete, You passed From England to France, From home

To loneliness abroad, Then home Abroad, success, And now Back home again

At last, To England And loneliness.

FORTONY

Poor little boy now he’ll never grow old, he’ll never lie in bed with his feet all cold; but he’ll never wake up with a start of surprise to feel the sun glittering in his eyes.

2-August

ENDYMION

In thegladtouched bythepassingmoon hisfleshwakensmomentarily losinginnocence hegainshis birth He issleeping hisdreamisadream ofcrystaltranslucentpurity whenIkissedhimhe stirredandlay still When hebeggedme inhisshatteredyouth Igrantedhimimmortality nursinginnocence eternal sleep I knewnothing mydreamundisturbed butoncetouchedbyhereternity acceptingnothing lessImust dream

REVOLUTION

YoungRevolutionary:

TherevolutioncameinMay Ihadwaitedeightmonths, Unabletostretchmyarms, Strugglingaroundinthewomb, Kickinginthedarkness. Whenmyheadcameoutfrombetweenherlegs Adoctor,dressedasapoliceman, Knockeditbackinwithhisbaton. Iwaskickinginthedarknessagain.

Policeman: Hewastryingtofuckher. Isawhim.

Christisaflower

Iamatree. Christwascrucifieduponme.

AlthoughChrististhebeginning Andtheend

Ineedahumanfriend.

Christwaswhollyman AsIam.

Christwaspureandfree; Myprickwon’tletmebe.

Ineedconciliationandpeace. Christ,letthisturmoilcease.

IcannotgotoMass. IlettheCuppass.

YetMasscomestome: Christ’ssacrificeeternally. Eternity Frightensme.

Theboredomofexistingforever Freedofendeavour.

-Eternityisnotlikethat-

Iknow,Christ,Iknow IwanttomeetEdgarPoe AndBaudelaire

InthepetalsofYoureternalflower.

Christisaflower Iamatree.

Christwascrucifieduponme.

Duringthedissection

Jamielostallofhishumanity Fromthemomenttheknife

cutintomeat hewasonlyanobject. Momentbymomenttheknife revealedthemiraculousuniverse thathadbeeninsidehim. Undertheflayedchest

whiteribscurveddown, vaulted,gothic,acathedral: Thenavelopenedontoarednave; hisbowels theorganpipes, empty,silent,meaninglessindisuse.

Skinflaps werepeeledbackfromhisthighs likepetals.

(Hisballsremovedlikecogs, hispenis sliceduplikeabreakfastsausage.)

Hewasanancienttomb justdiscovered byarchaeologists.

Theglowingredorgans wereliftedfromhim asfromajewel-boxoftreasures.

Hisglands madetodecorate thenecksofqueens. Thesheenofhiskidneys luminous asthebrushstrokesofWatteau.

Thenetworkofveins readyfortheshoulders ofsomelong-deadmaja. Theytookhisheart likearose, andthegreatchest, thathadbeenlikeachurch, orajewelledAztecgrave robbedbyconquistadors, wasemptynow andsilent asthetombofagod.

CZECHOSLOVAKIA

Yourmartyredbodyispaintedontime.

Paintedbloodrunsfromtheholeswherethenailshavebeen,fromthestones onyourhead,fromthearrowsshotdeepintoyourlegsandbreast.

Apaintednimbusoflightilluminatesyourface.

Thecountriesoftheworld,likepaintedgrievingsaints,standhelplesslyabout.

Thepaintedexecutionersdonotknowwhattheydo.

Youaredead,paintedlyinginthetomb.

Itisstillthefirstday.

IfChristhadcometoearthasstonesandwoodsandfieldsandtreesinsteadof asaman,

Hewouldhavecometoearthasyou.

DEATH MASQUE

Iwasnotastudentorapolitician. IworkedatabreweryinPilsen.

Fortwenty-fouryearsIhadspunmylifeincircleslikeaspider. Hereandthereitcaughtthelightbutitseemedtoleadtonocentre. Iwastryingtodrawsomethingoutofmybodybutcouldnotsayexactlywhat.

Whentheycameadreadfulhopelessnesspossessedme. Myarmsandlegsstillmovedatmywork. Istillmaintainedsomeunity. Butthewebofmylifewascaughtinmythroat.

ThenwhenyouranflamingthroughPragueIsawthatfrommybirth thewebhadbeenleadingmeincirclestowardsacentre: NotfromPilsentoWenceslasSquareasthecentreofPrague; nottoPragueasthecentreofmycountry; ButtoyouasthecentreoftheholocaustthatIwastobecome.

PerhapsifIhadseenmyselfasarawpieceofmeat,morepreythanspider, quiveringatthecentreofablazingweb,Iwouldnothavelitthematch. Idonotknow AllIdoknowisthatasthepetrolignitedandtheflames lickedaroundme

Isawhim. Andhetookmyhand. Andhedrewmyburningheaddownonto hisshoulder. Andhesmiledatme.

SKETCHESAFTERWATTEAU

hestretchedoutontheroughgrass,hisrifleandbayonetbyhisside,archinghisback slightlyandwrigglingtofithisbodyintothecontoursoftheearthhewasnotasoldier- hewasnotaFrenchmanhehadneverkilledaRussianoranAustrianoranItalianhewasaboy,inaforeigncountry,bivouackedunderadepthlessbluesky,hisredandwhite uniformedbodyoneofmanyrecliningfiguresdottedontheundulatinggreenfield-

helayonhisback,histwohandspillowedunderhishead,staringupattheskyhelayonhisside,histwohandspillowedunderhischeek,hiseyesclosed,perhapsasleep, mouthslightlyopen,kneesdrawnup,breechescrumpled -

helayonhisstomach,armsstretchedout,handssoftlyholdingthegrass,thebackofhis uniformfleckedwithgrass-particlesanddirt,thecoatbackrelaxedintocreaseshelayonhisleftside,hisrightlegthrownovertheleft,hisleftarmoutofsightsomewhere beneathhim,therighthandthrustdownbetweenhislegs,thebackofhiscoatstretched smoothacrosshisshoulder-bladesandthesoftundulations,thehighlightsandshadows,of hisbody-

helayasleep,spread-eagledonhisback,palmsupward,hiscoatfallenopen,atriangleof lightlytannedfleshgentlyrisingandfallingbetweenthewaistbandofhisbreechesandhis crumpledshirttails’dividedcentre,pulledupandopenashestretched-

ORPHEUS

Wedgedbetweenrocksonthedesolateshore

Hisemptythroatspokewiththetongueofgods Hisvoicethatlivingcharmedaworldofstones Nowprophesiedtomanthathemustdie

Livinglovecameandtookawayhisheart Andsongsunheardbymenbeforeweresung Butdeathwouldnotbemockedandtookhislove Andlefthimheartformortalthingsalone

Returningfromthedepthsoftheabyss

Heturninglookedintohisowngrimeyes Andcallingsawhimselfstepbackandgo

Andafterthathewanderedasthewinds Scatteredhisfleshandburiedwhatwasleft Hisstonyvoiceechoingonthewaves

LEKEU (i)

Thisisadayfordying. Deadwinter. Bitterwind. Rainlyingonrooftops Alittleearlysun Butgreythroughtheafternoon Untilevening. MonsieurLekeu,sitting Byhisson’sbed,watching Lifesinkaway,watching Thatpreciouschildhood Andyouthunravelitself Imperceptibly-yesterday Twenty-four,tomorrow Nothing-knowing Deaththroughhisson’s Frailhand,knowing Itwasadayfordying.

(ii) dying attwenty-four washe ishenomore thanamemory ofunfulfilledspring fruitunripening hoar-frostblighted orwithus inpianoandviolin abouttobegin themasterpiece alwaysapossibility inhiseternalspring

HYACINTHUS

Bloodtricklesfromhisforehead: Aredrootholdinghimtotheground.

Thediscusliesnearby, Innocentinitsimmobility.

BoreasandZephyrus,regretfulalmost Beforetheblowhadstruck,whineoverhead.

Apollomournssilently

Thebeautifulboyhasbecomeearth. Hisdeadfaceisalreadyaflower.

DAEDALUSINCUMAE

EurydiceturnsandsinkstoHell; Polluxforhisbrotherdailydies; Daedalusthecraftsmanmakesthewings Wherewithhisonlyson,allheedless,flies...

Icarus,hiswingsdroppedbacktoearth, Fliesupward,naked,goldeninthesun, SkimslikeafishthroughZephyrus'blownhair, Hiesontowardthebright-eyedHolyOne...

StandingonOlympus'sacredheights Zeuswatchesastheglowingboydrawsnear, Observestheslimyounglimbs,thefragilechest, Thebodythathisfatherheldsodear...

Daedalus,inCumae,fromthemaze Escaped,mournssilentlyforhislostson; Kneelingheaskswhyhewasnottheone Whofelltoearth,toZeusheferventprays:

«Almighty God, be Father to my son, Accept him and forgive his few young sins, Let Glaucus come to calm the troubled waves, Poseidon grace the place where he plashed in;

«As over him the booming billow closes Let his struggling limbs find rest in you; Fasten eternal wings unto his shoulders, Strong wings, that can withstand your holy view

«All the promises I have not kept!... I have no right to ask... forgetting You In pride, ambition, man-made wings that flew... Yet Lord I do ask... » AndDaedaluswept...

Icarus,kneeling,headbowed,beforeZeus, Saysnothing,dumbwithwonderandwithlove; Zeus,hearinginhismindthesighsandtears OfDaedalus'libation,standsabove

Thebeautifulboy,takinginhishand ThemetaldiscstillchainedtoIcarus'neck: «Who carved this plate, engravéd with thy name?» «My father, Daedalus, before my wreck.»

«Because thy father mourns for thee and weeps, Because he loves thee more than his own life, Sunk though thou be beneath the watry floar, By this disc I raise thee up to Paradise!»

Zeusstoopingliftshimfromtheperilousflood, Fromoutthesea'slipsandthetorrentwild, Stillingthesea-greenterrorinhisblood, HoldinghimastenderlyasHisownchild!

Clutchingtohisbreasttheboythegod StraighttoOlympusflies... Unbrokenwings Vibrate,disturbthewater,andaregone... Thewreckageoftheflight,thebrokenwings,

Floatonthesurfaceforatime,thensink... Theoceanisaspeacefulasthesky Whereoverheadtwocirclingsea-birdsfly And,circlingskyward,blur,growindistinct...

Daedalus,ontheshore,fromweepingstarts: Abird'ssleepycryinthedeepeningnight Disturbshim. Lookingupheseestheflight... Andsuddenlyhesmiles,lightofheart!

OnMountOlympusnymphssurroundtheboy, Dryinghislimbswithclothoffinestsort, Oilingtheburntskin,soothingoutthehurt Whereheflewnearthesun. Nowallisjoy

Andpeace,becauseafatherlovedhisson; AndPolluxdiedtohimself,forCastor'ssake! ThoughEurydicediestoOrpheus, ThesongshesingswillEurydicemake!

AndDaedalushasforgedametaldisc EngravédwithI.C.A.R.U.S!... AndIhavemadeapoemoncleanwhitesheets Morelikeaprayerthananyonecouldguess:

«Pray God, forgive the sins of Icarus, Soothe the crushed limbs, smooth out the hair astray, Accept him into Heaven as Thy Son... And all the others who have died this day.»

In memory of the French submarine Eurydice; lost without survivors (March1970)

GOODFRIDAY

goingtosleep itwasmorelikedying whenHerebukedus nowstandinghere watchingHimdying prayingforsleep ifwecangrasp somedimunderstanding ofHiswords we cannotunderstand theanguishofsuffering wrackingHislimbs mustwenowbe halfinlovealways withpainfuldeath seeingOurLord Hisstreamingbloodstaining thisholywood touchedbythesun brightindarkgleaming goldasaflame

“Beagoodboy,myson.” hetoldme buthewasgood andwillnevertalktomeagain

IfIhadonlyknown thatlasttime Iwouldhavetoldhimsomuch kissedhimgoodbye butweparted withscarcelyaglance

Heisdeadforever

EveryonecouldseeIhadbeencrying ButwhatcouldIdo

INowthemomentforwhichIhavebeenwaiting alonehereatlast awayfromthemall inthedarkbetweensheets andIcannotcry

Ilongedtocryalone but nowIcannot

Ifeelempty Sleep isfar butpanic makesmeshiver

HowcanIgoonliving tomorrow

facemotherandalltherest whenheisgoneforever

Theykilledhim

Abulletwentthroughhishead

Icannotsleep Mycheekburnsonthepillow

WhenIpray Icanonlyprayforvengeance

NowIcanonlyhate II

“Beagoodboy,myson. Lookafteryourmotherforme; Andremember,aboveallotherthings, DonothateBitternesscanonlyfollow. Trytoforgivethem. Ialreadyhave. Thereismuchinjusticeintheworld: Menwereunjusttothem; TheywereunjusttomeIfyoucontinue Thecirclecanneverbebroken.

Todowhattheydid Thinkwhatmusthavebeendonetothem. Youhavelivedinacomfortableworld. Mydeathnowmakesyouburnwithhate.

Thinkoftheunspeakablepain Thatlivesintheheartsofmykillers Andtrytoforgive.”

Iliketothinkofhim

Asoneoftheluckyones; Histooearlygrief Asortoftraining.

(The formality of “The Dance”: Watteau’s miniature adults, Never really children Expecting a paradise,

Growing without surprise; Not even dismayed By the screaming of the crowd Or the waiting guillotine.)

Aswearedraggedintothesun, Blindfolded,whimpering,crying, Waitingforthebullet Hisfather’sdeathpredicted,

Iliketothinkofhim, Standing,handstiedattheback, DetachedasSt.Sebastian Afterhislongpreparation.

FOURMEN

PROGRAMMEFORASYMPHONY

I

FirstMovement

DonMcCullininCambodia II SecondMovement

EdwardMorganForsteratCambridge III ThirdMovement

IainCloughonAnnapurna IV FourthMovement

CamiloTorresRestrepoofColombia

Bandages swaithemyshatteredlegs

Thesheetiscoolonmychest

Everythingiswhitenow

Aredmemorypersists Suddenly consciousnessbecamechaos shrapnelsounded inmylegs thepainflashedforaninstant andwentblack

Awhitesheethidesthedamage thatwasme

Iamanobject Oneoftheunluckyones atlast

Theyarephotographingme asanitemofinterest tothecasualviewer aestheticallysatisfying inthecontrastofsurfaces

Thesmoothwhitenessofthesheets

Thetannedexpanseofchest patternedwithdarkhair

Thebottlesofblood theloopingrubbertubes alltheparaphernalia ofthefieldhospital

Thedulleyesheavywithtoomuchpain

Iamthevictim thatisall

Itwasinevitable Acamerashutter clicksout themoments ofmylife andthistime Iaminfocus Tomorrow Ishallbelivingagain ordeadagain whileothersubjectsmove tothecentre ofthepicture

Otherhandswilloperatetheshutter

Itdoesnotmatter

Thesheetiscoolonmychest Aloneagain nowtheyhavegone amIalive withnocamera tocapture theminutesof mylife

Onlymyeyesrevealed thepainIhadsuffered

Theeyes likethelens cannotlie

Ihavetriedtobehavewell tofulfillmyobligations

Thedangerofmyprofession alwayswithmeifnotinme resolveditselfintoanenigma

LikeConstable withhisnotebook Isketchedoutscenes inthenotebookofmycamera

Thelandscapesofbattle Thenalone inthepositivedark Isoughttotransform thehorrorintobeauty

Crucifixionintoart

AstheRembrandt etchinganddrypoint achievesitslast transfiguredstate inthehighlightsandshadows ofthefinalpicture

Itriedtocapture theaestheticofviolentdeath

Ihavetravelledwithitforyears

Nowithasvisitedme briefly andwithdrawnagain

Itiswaiting atadistance bythefootofmybed justbeyondmyfieldofvision outoffocus

EachphotographItake willbringitbacktome clearandsharp

Ihaveseenitandrecognisedit

Oneday itwillcomeagain andclaimmeforitsown

PerhapsinsomeunknownMay Oreventomorrow

Buthavinglivedwithit forsolong nowithasvisitedme IknowIcanacceptit

Whatevermyeyesmayhaveshown mybodyhaslearnedtoaccept

Thecrystalplasma hangsaboveme feedingintomyarm thelifethatseepsout frommylegs

Thesheetsarestained coveringmywounds atmychest theyarecoolandwhite

Thepainwillneverstop

JesusJesus allthesufferingIhavewitnessed inmylifetimeofmoments allthepainandthedeath inthestillcalmnewspaperprints Icanrecorditall everyblindatrocity canneveralleviateanyofit NothingNothing

Therewasaday whenthesunshone whentheskywasblue thenawind carryingclouds ruffledtheempty grass-slope toadifferenttexture inthemoving shadowsatmyfeet layadrownedfledgling bonyandfragile itsfeathersstillwet withthenight’srain

Thepainwillstop whenIsleep

Inthesecoolwhitesheets oblivion takesonemoreprint frommynegative andfixesit

Thereddreamisover White bandages covermyeyes

Sleep creepsoverme

Therealhorrorcanbegin

Acleanwhitesheet liesbeforemeonthedesk

Acleanwhitesheet Icannotwrite Theyvisitme theyoungofthreegenerations thosewhoadmireme usuallyadmireme forthewrongreasons buttheyvisitme andwetalk inthesoftCambridgetwilight

Whentheyaskme whyIneverwroteanothernovel Ianswerthemobliquely Itellthemtoreadtheessays thepoliticalessays andtheintroductions

Seeingtheimpossibilityofartisticdevelopment Ispeakoftheimportanceofachievement theirrelevanceofadvanceordecline

DoIknowtheanswermyself

Therewasamountainaheadofme amountainIcouldnotfindmywayover coulddiscernnopathwayaround discovernopassageacross

ThehopedforArcticSummerdidnotcome

Myheartsankinsilence

Whentheyleaveme Isitalone withtheemptysheetbeforeme andwatchthenight fillingthepage

Devilsareofthenorth andpoemscanbewrittenaboutthem

Novelscanbewrittenaboutthem

Itispeaceful inthissecularretreat

OccasionallyIcanevenforget

ThethingsforwhichIamadmired thethingsIhavesooftensaid theliberalidealsIhavepropounded areonlythethingsthatall civilisedmenmustfeel thereisnothingsingularaboutthem

Ihavesaidthem thatisall

Yettheyreveremeasan infinitelywiseoldman

Theydonotseethecul-de-sac

Cambridge onadelightfullywarm afternoon

Thepageremainsempty

Ishouldnothavewrittenthatword Ishouldhaveknown whatMahlerknew shouldhaveunderstood whathisrescoring ofthesixthsymphony tellsme

Threeblowsoffatearetragic andmusiccanbewrittenaboutthem

Novelscanbewrittenaboutthem

Butwhatwasthereleft formetosay after boum Seeingsomethingvaguely beyondtheechooftheancientearth Iwasunabletosay exactlywhat

Couldnotfindmywaypastthatdeadsound the boum aliveinthedarkCambridgenight the boum stillwalkingthetownstreetsatmidday the boum inthequestionsinthestudents’eyes Iwouldnotlie IwroteofthedarknessthatIsaw

Yetnotbetrayingmyfriends didI betrayperhapsmyself didI betraytheechoofthe boum reverberatingstill inthecavesofmyskull whereitcanneverescape

Notontoanypaper

DidIbetraythepaleyoungsonofMrs.Moore

Thecleanwhitesheet liesbeforemeonthedesk Night hasalmostcoveredit

Theunwrittencornerremains unwritten

Noflame entersmypen compellingittowrite lightingthepage

IhavedonealltheyIcoulddo goneasfarasIcouldgo

Icannotdomore Mysoulisinthebalance

Mylifewasoflittleimportance soIhazardedmysoul

Ihaveputmysoulatrisk Nowthedarkishere thenightisuponme

AndIshallknow CAMBRIDGE1970

Climbingontomyfirstwall asachild

IknewthatIshoulddie somewherehighupinthemountains

Thisdistantgrave thislonelysortofpeace wasalreadythere invisibly intherocksIclamberedover

Tripping grazingmyknees runningcrying hometomymother tobecomforted notknowing Ihadstumbledover myowngrave

Thewindsblowhighaboveme whistlingonthemountainsatnight singingtomysoulinawildhighlanguage

Carryindistinguishablewords fromtheflappingcottonprayer-flags ofthevillagesbelow thatmutterinthedarknessaroundme astheyjourneyon tothedistantpeaks andthestrangegodsoftheirdestination

Thesnowliesalwaysontheslope asoftwhitesheet thatwillneverbetrampledintomud

Thestonesarepiledonme Asinglecross Fewpeoplepass

Wreathsofblue mountainflowers wither inthesharpmorningair

This ishowIwantedit orrather howIalwaysknewthatitwouldbe lyinghereatpeace withthesoulsofthemountaindead highhigh farfromthemurmuringcrowd whoshiverincities huddledatthefootofeverycliff countingouttheminutesoftheirlives afraidoflandslide ofrockfalloravalanche

Afraidofevery ActofGod

Feardrovemetothemountains

Thefeartwistingtheirlife-sickfaces

Thefearinmymother’seyes asshecalledtometocomedown

Beggingmenottogoanyhigher Yorkshire becametooconstricting evenhighinthemountains tooneartheground

InScotland themostchallengingclimbs grewmellowerwiththeyears lesssatisfactory Thefacesofthepeoplewereunhappyandtight

Onlyonthemountains lookingdownattheearth asfromOlympus’heights mankindappearedtobe softerandhappier lessafraid

Themenstridinggod-likebesideme seemedtoopenoutasweclimbed theirfacesgrewbroaderandclearer theireyesreflectedthesnowandthesky

Evenbackintheworld theireyesretainedsomeglance somerecognisabledistance aglacialfreedom

Ichosethisdeath whenIchosethislife Ichosethiswildsinginggrave

Thestreetsofthetownwereheavywithslush Itrampedinthemuddyfootprintsofothers followingthecharteredstreets squelchinginthedisfiguredsnow rememberingpurewhiteness

Theroadbecameapath andthenatrack andfinallydisappearedaltogether Theslopegrewsteeper Foothills turnedslowlytomountains grassvanished amidbrokenstones patchesofsnowformedbetweentherocks

Whiteuntroddensnow thatwillneverbetrampledintomud

Theairbecamethinandsharp Somethingcalledtomefromabove

Istrainedmyneck lookingup tryingtosee

Climbinghandoverhand feelingcarefullyforeachsecurefoothold

IthoughtofeverystepthatIhadtaken inmylifetimeofmountains howeachhadreallybeenthelastone yetsomehowthefirst

Iclosedmyeyes

Alltheblindingpeakswerethere rangedbeforeme theclimbed theunclimbed thenever-to-beclimbed Ihadconqueredthemall intheshuttingofaneyelid

Themurmuringbelowhadceased

Thewindwassinginginmyears

Thevoicefromabove calling hadbecomeclearer

ForthefirsttimeIcouldhear somethingIhadhalf-heardallmylife

Themountainitselfwastalkingtome

WhenIfell withtheavalanche Iwasonceagainalittleboy kneesgrazed whowouldpickhimselfup andruncrying hometohismother

Tobecomforted

Wheremybodylaybleeding doesnotmatter ifanepitaphwaswritten isoflittleimportance myburialplace immaterial

MybodyisoftheearthofSouthAmerica

Iamcarriedonthesilkofspiders mysoultravelslikeanundergroundstream toeverycorneroftheland

Allinjustice allevilandcorruption feelingitshakingbeneaththeirfeet willtremble knowingitmustspring fromthecracksintheearth likeafountaininthedesert

Therecanbenolookingback

Mylifewassimple uncomplicated mydeathinitself equallyso

Together theyrumble likedistantthunder cannotbeforgotten onlyoccasionallyignored mustonedaybreak sweepingtheearthinaviolentstorm directlyoverhead

Thehouseofthesunhasbeenopened hugeblackbirds carryforththelight

Mylifeanddeath wereunexceptional manymenhavetravelled thesamepathbeforeme eachofuscanonly testifytothetruth

ThetruthofourGethsemane

TheDevilwhenhecame camewithnogreatmiracles whisperingofdeath inthedesertoftheself

Icouldturnnostonestobread couldnotsavemyself norruletheearthinglory

Butinmymomentofagony whenthewholeworldseemedasleep unabletokeepvigilbesideme Iprayedonlythatthecupmightpass

Hisprayermineatlast

Andacceptingitfreely rosefromtheground inthatfirstaction alreadycrucified

AsJesus achildinthetemple aboutHisFather’sbusiness wasalreadycrucified

Afterwards itwaseasy theactofdying oncebegun movingintotalsurrender untiltheconsummatedgesture

Historycannotfalsifyanimage

Iwascrucifiedinthejungle likeGuevara withChristbesideme

EventheChurchitselftrembled

Thedeathofthebody asmallsacrifice manymenhaveoffered theirliveswithoutChrist withChristmyforfeit therewaslittlemerit

Mysoul Ihadgrownusedtorisking inthehazards ofmyvocation When suddenly inthenight alightshoneonmyface betweentheleavesoftheblowingbranches andIknew thatamancanonlylive riskingbodyandsoul both ineverymovement everygesture everymomentofhislife

Onlyinthiscanthedarknessbeaverted

Evenmymother crying seemedfaraway

Idiedforthefuture

Manymenhavedied fortheoldorder reconciledintheflesh

Itisjoyfultodie forthelifeoftheworld thatmustcome

Forthosepeoplewho tremblingonthebrink aregiventheGracetodrink bymydeath

Fortheunborngrandchildren

Iftheyfindmygrave insomefutureage theywillnotfindthedebris ofmymortalbody

MybodyIbequeathedtotheearth

Theywilldiscoveronly thecleanwhitesheet thathadbeenmyshroud soakedwiththebloodofmywounds stainedwiththeearthofmycountry

Ifawind billowsitintotheair letitbethemortalflag notofanyearthlynation butemblemofourcommonimmortality

Ifitisvenerated byaworld rejectingtheviolence ofitsown unspeakableconception rememberingthatallbirth involvesterrorandblood letitconciliate humanity initsseamless redandblackfolds

Ifitisfound

RemembertheTombwasempty Andthatmylifewasnotlost

ASUMMERGAME

Whenageandcoldhavemadeuslame OurheartsarefulloflostgreenMay Forcricketisasummergame

Thedaysgrowlongandboysdisdain Tothinkuponthatfaroffday Whenageandcoldhavemadeuslame

Insummerwecantakeaplane Tosomewarmclimatewheretheyplay Forcricketisasummergame

Knowingatlasttheymustrefrain Joiningouraliendisplay Whenageandcoldhavemadeuslame

Theshadowslengtheninthelane Theflannelspressedandputaway Forcricketisasummergame

Anothersport! Another’sfame! We’llstrikethestumpsatcloseofplay Whenageandcoldhavemadeuslame Forcricketisasummergame

GALATÉE

In this Monody, written on the second anniversary of the invasion of Czechoslovakia, the Author bewails the sixFrenchSailors,unfortunatelykilledwhenthesubmarineGalatéewasrammedbythe South African submarine, Maria von Reubek, sold bytheFrenchonlyashorttimepreviously And by occasion foretells the ruin of the South African, the Czechoslovakian, the Greek, and all other unjust and corrupt governments then in their heights, the return of countries to their rightful rule, and expresses the hope that France and the other affluent Powers will cease dealing in weapons of warandtakeupagaintheirGrandDestiny.

Galatea lovedAciswellbuttheelephantsandbearsof Polyphemus weretemptingtoonesoyoung, andwhenPolyphemus’ enormouseye glitteredonthelovers itwastoolate. ThebodyofAcis, thathadbecomepartofGalatea’s, laycrushedbeneaththerock. Symoethismourned. ButthetearsofGalatea wouldminglewiththeriver thatAcis wastobecome.

Odysseus alreadydrewnear thetriumphantPolyphemus. Brontes,Steropes,Acamas,Pyracmon, werealltopassaway. AndtheCabeiri, Hephaestus’trueheirs, wouldmine theirownland atlast.

NEREUS

Mydaughter

Thetideisrising. Iamold. Acisflowsalready tomybosom. Returnagaintome, swimminginthebillows ofyourlostlove. Rushbackintomyarms.

Thedebris ontheMonzatrack isnotwhereIseehim; heisnot onthewinner’srostrum, garlanded,drinkingchampagne: Forme histwenty-eightyears flashintoaninstant, andheruns forthewaitinghelicopter, aracejustwon, aheadofhim thebright,triumphantfuture.

NARCISSUSDYING

Theribsbeneaththefleshshownotatall Exceptwhenbreathistaken;thentheyline Thechestwithripplesofmortality Theskeletoniscoyundertheskin Boxingthelungsandheart. Icannotbreathe. Thecrabandlobstershellistothepoint, Beingnotsoswathedincomfortablemeat Thatwewouldthinkasoulmustlivetherein.

THEDEATHOFYUKIOMISHIMA

I

Myheartbecameearth. Inmybellymybowelscoiled Likethecastsofworms. Natsumiwouldunderstand Myresponsibility:

Nowwhennoraincomes Bringingdeepthingstotheair Myswordgivesrelease. II

Inthesilenceat ThefarendofthebeachI Crossthebridgetoa Smallwoodedislandapart. Orientaltreesgrowthere.

Apagodastands Likeporcelaininthesun. Iwalkthroughthegrass.

BALDERDEAD

Onlytheblind couldkill thatgoodlygod.

Mistletoe protrudesfromhischest likeacrackedrib.

Oh!hislovelyskin isbroken,spills itsnectarontotheground.

Likethesun emergingfromcloud-banks, hissmile transfiguredlandscapes. Wherewillhislaughtersoundnow? Onlyindistanttowns

Atnightfall,beckoning,warm. We cannottravelthere;Mustcontinueourjourney.

(A yellow star, Juden, proclaiming

The intolerable age had begun. But history teaches no lessons The circumcised boy has a gun.)

Hisdaringsoulwasjust aliveintheflutteringdark

Iftheyshothim,howtheyshothim, doesitmatter?

Andyettheverdictwas justifiablehomicide

Thecountryinastateof apprehendedinsurrection!

The(civilised)worldstandsappalled?

Andyettheverdictwas justifiedhomicide

If,asshesays,they shothim,handstied,intheback, squirmingunderaboot,jack-(!)-boot, doesitmatter?

Didthe(civilised)worldstandappalled?

If,booted,hewasfound stabbedshotstrangledheisdead doesitmatter?

Yetwastheverdict justifiedhomicide?

Doesitmatterdoesitmatter?

Iftheplanebecame awingédBelsen,bootsbootsbootsbooting thegirlsenseless,insaneretribution, doesitmatter?

Ifthe(civilised)worldstoodappalled?

Hitler,Pilate,theJunta inGreece,theyall apprehendedinsurrection

“Notamomenttoosoon”theylatersaid, whenpressedbypoliticalexpediency;feeling thetasteoftruthgrow intheirbreath withthelies.

Doesitmatterifthe(civilised)worldstandsappalled?

Hissoulflutteredontheplane likeabirdwantingtobefree; lovelierthantheflightofthebullet, hisscorchedshirt,itsproximity

Itwastoolatefor apprehendedhomicide

Ifthecountryisinastateof justifiableinsurrection

The(civilised)worldcanstandappalled!

Peelingbacktheskin,finding aworldofbananarepublics

(Thejungleisnearer! Doesitmatter!)

Aworldof justifiableinsurrections

Doesitmatter! Doesitmatter!

Andheisdead,andthouartdead, Andthe

THEDOPPLEREFFECT

Aquasarpulsesred attheplane’stail; togethertheymove slowlyacrossthenightsky.

Iamstill;thecentre. Horizontally theplane’sfixedcourse unwinds,barringdisaster.

Wetraveltogether asgravity’s skinbagofair holdsustotheearth.

Theplanerecedesfromview. Thedullenginehum fallsinpitch: ashifttowardsthered.

Istepoutintospace. Theearthisdistant asanystar,flashing intheblackness.

Icannotjudgedistances. Injustices advanceandrecede, turningasslowlyasplanets.

Itistheyear’slastday anditisdark. Nothingcomes. Imoveoutwardlikeastar.

Oneachpointoflight, far,uncounted, aFloristan succumbstoaPizarro.

Thereisnotrumpetcall. Allthreeareslaughtered. Pizarrorules likeaseculargod.

Nationsrecede,advance, movingasslowlyasinjustice. Somany. Ihadnotthought lifehadrepressedsomany

Releasedfromjail intheirmid-fifties harderthan thequickkindshots ofMurat’scavalry onPríncipePío; impossibletopaint theirslowdecline;

ortheexileinCuba ofthosewho limptodeath,far fromtheirbelovédQuebec.

Heroicsongsarebornof tanksinthestreet, ofsudden,bloodywars; notthetediousaftermath,

thegrindingoftheyears, thesystematic repression ofhalfacontinent,half

aplanet,halfastar Spaceiscold. Thelightsaredistant. Everythingissofar.

Impossibletodetect anymotion. Yettheuniverse issilentlyexpanding. Motionlesstogether, wearemoving towardssomething onourcapsuleofearth, thisinsignificant terminalbrightness. Igazeintodark; findapointoflight.

Theearth? Astar? Orsomethingelse? Itdoesnotmatter. Allthatdoesmatter: itsmotion relativetomine. Newtonhandsme hisfire-bornprism.

HerschelandRitter leanatmyshoulder. Mypulse beatsfaster

Thehum inmyears changesitspitch. Doesitriseorfall?

Colours

burstfromtheprism acrossmyface: theDopplershift fromviolettored? orfromred toviolet? Icannottell.

Thespectrumblurs. Recessionorapproach? Doesitmove, ordoI?

Theequation, n = n (1 + v over c), shouldwork, butitdoesn’t.

Thedistanceofthestar isparamount. Iftoonear,orfar, orifI,inmyhaste, stormitwithacharge, orbackaway toosoon,toolate, takingupsword

orpen,inartificialfury ofthebrain toolongdelayed, theneverythingwouldbelost.

Itiscold. Iclosemyeyes. Black yieldstoviolet,indigo,blue, green,yellow,orange, redmorning. Overhead thestarsaregone. Theplanesthatcross theirhorizontalcourse areblack againstthesun.

Thequasar’slost, itsspectrallines displaced towardsthered.

THEFEASTOFTHECIRCUMCISION

TheJordancrossed,withJoshuatheyknew Thesharpflint’smutilatingwombofpain Havingknownfreedomanddesert. Averting Theireyes,theloomingstonesofGilgalgrew

Phallus-like,tumescent. Anicydew Beadedtheirbodies. Foreskingone,obscene, Theirgearlayopentothesky,drenchedin Non-menstrualblood. ThisGod,cruelandnew

Tothem,man-cruel,wantingtheirprivateflesh, Enteredtheirsoulslikeiron: Wastherock WheretenderIshmael’spubertystillcries;

SanctionedyoungShechem’sheavywoundedcock, CarriedtheChristChildtobecircumcised.

Gentle,caringSchumann, Affectedbyeverythingthathappenedintheworld, LettingitallfindanoutletinmusicStillrejectingthemadness, Pencilstrappedtohisleadhand, Writing,speaking,communicating,affirming Thewholeofhislifeinabstractsounds

Ashismindalteredperspective, Flog durch die stillen Lande, Als flöge sie nach Haus. 2

Es war, als hätt’der Himmel Die Erde still geküßt, Itwasasif,knowing Hewouldhavesmalluseforthegiftsofage, Hedeterminedtowastenotimeoninessentials; Needingonlyachildliketranslucency Thatwouldnotgetintheway; Lettinghisgreathandsspeak Fortheuselessruinedones; Relyingontheclarityofhissoul. 3

Theywereboth,perhaps,children Whohavenevertired,aswetire, Watchingtheskinofsoap, Heldintactbetweencirclingthumb Andforefinger,shimmer,grow Withtheirbreath,detachitself Andfloatoutwardfromtheirdyinghands, Perfect,indescribable,unbroken.

GOLGOTHATRIPTYCH (I) CHRISTONTHECROSS

Woman,whydostthoutroubleme? Mytime isnotyetcome.

EnteringtheTemplealone inHiseyesight,Icouldnottakeyouthere; adolescentinyourhands,I couldnottakeyou;wherelonelinessandhunger mademadthewildernesswithpromise wasIwithoutyou;atSiloam wheretheblindmansaw allthatsparklingwater;e’entothegarden whereblood-prophetsoozed,mustI bealone;tobe alone,now: Inyoureyesight bareasbirth,stretchedopen, mutilateduntodeathwithoutyou: Tobe withyouinsleep;withyou indeath: Withyoualways,inyourblood,unseen.

GOLGOTHATRIPTYCH (II)

GESTAS(THEANTI-CHRIST)ONTHECROSS

Woman,whydidstthoutroublemeintolife? AlonehaveIlived. Youshrivelledatmybelly, becamescab,scar-tissue,sunkoutofsight. Miraclesbecamedisasters;prayers endedtautbetweenmyhips,spattering thewildernessofpromise. Still wasIblind;blind asaworminthewarmdarkearth. Gethsemane becamelikeawhore: Ourbloodmingled inanecstasyofagony onthecross;glorifyingmynakedflesh. Butdeathwasall: Nothingtoseethere comprehensible,communicable,noteworthy. Ireturnedwithbloodyhandsandfeet towatchmydreamingsaintsbleeddeathforme.

GOLGOTHATRIPTYCH (III) SAINTDISMAS (BAUDELAIRE)ONTHECROSS

Woman,whydoItroubleyou? Yoursoul magnifiestheLord.

YetdoIjourney throughthecordsofearth,smellingofblood anddark,betweenpositiveandnegative,rising andfalling,promisingthewilderness myflesh,astheblooddrains: AndIamblind, seeingwaterinmyeyes. Thegarden mustnotpassfromme: Iwillgothere withoutyou;feelthehurtofmylife pulledout;theblood,thenakedness, thesharppointsofdeath. Then, ifallseemsmeaningless,orif Icandivinenomeaning,still shallIreturn,throughgreyshapes,bloodonmypen.

Hewept.

Hislifewasafeastwhere SesameandLilies grew.Then

Beautylaughedinhisface; spatout despair’s voltageregulator. Discharged fromtheinstitution, hisdays followedoneanother snail-like ashecrepttohisgrave.

PASADENA

Sunkinhischair heissolidasbronzeormarble. Therococopastoralscene, workedontheantimacassar behindhishead, istasteless,mass-produced; animageofArcadia duplicatedontheotherchair andthreetimesonthecouch. Theyareallthere inthelivingroomwhere, atfifteenI, unbuttoned,swungfromthedoorlikeamonkey; myboy’schestdarkeningwithadolescenthair Exhaustedonthecouch, myheadthrownback againsttheeighteenth-century Antimacassar, Ilookacrossatmyfather, hiscrumpledsuit,hishawk-likeface, hisindescribableness thatissoontopass intohistory, hardlynoticing thecrudeembroidery thatwilltaketheplaceofhishead.

SELF PORTRAITATTHIRTYTHREE

Conceding thetimenowpast foratragically earlydeath, resignedthat, atthirty-three, theblood-drops coughedup onthewhitepillow, thepurpleangel’s crystaltears fallingoverGrodek, thefinal quarrelwithGod inatavernbrawl, thedeathbywater outofLivorno withnoguitar,Ariel’s strident emotionalangst, arenotforme:

ofcrucifyingage, Igladlywould spreadoutmyarms,

climbupontoatree; yetGod seemstohavelet thiscup passfromme: markingtime untilmydeath insomepuny warofliberation, oruntiltheepic promisedfor myblindoldage,

IfindIstillcan emit adropofcrystal lubrication atthemere mentionofsexjustlikeanadolescent.

ThebloodofIrelandflowsagain

Thedeadalreadydead Standghastlyintheirspectralranks We are her sons, theysaid.

Aboy,severelyburnt,hisclothes Tornoff,hisbodyred, RunsscreaminguptheBelfaststreet I am her son, hesaid.

KingBillystridestheemptytown WhereOrangemenhavebled Smilesateachmoon-staringcorpse They are my sons, hesaid.

WhilePearseandConnollydisplay ThewoundswhereBritishlead Rippedexitsfortheirhardbrightsouls They are our sons, theysaid.

TheBritishsoldieraimshisgun

AtanIrishman’shead, Thinksofdeadfriendsandpullsthetrigger, Son of a bitch, hesaid.

Cathleen,thedaughterofHoulihan, Toolongonbulletsfed, Thoughbeautiful,issad,forlorn, They are my sons, shesaid.

TheProtestantandCatholicboys

Liesidebyside,nowdead, Andspeaktoeachotherinthedark, We’re both her sons, theysaid.

WhileFaulknerstrikesaposeandsmiles

Theshutter’sclickedbyTed; Internment without trial is all That’s left for us, hesaid.

WhenCronusatehischildren

Andrippedeachthinkinghead Frombleedingmutilatedtrunk They were his sons, hesaid.

BLOODY SUNDAY

TheylietonightinthehospitalsofLondonderry, Frozen,asifbytheweather,intopositionsofdeath. Thenightiscold. Thedeadwinterstinksofdecay Iciclesdropfromtaps,thathadbeenlivingwater Naturemirrorsman. Somethingmadetheirbloodfreeze Andkilledthem. Somethingformedstalactitesinthesouls Oftheirkillers. Icesplintersdanceincongealedveins, Formredchainsofstars,deadmoleculesforcinganexit. Winterhassetin. Humanityishibernating. Pipesburstinthecold. Theinkhasfrozeninmybelly

Theherolaydead. Stillalmostaboy, hishair,blood-matted, wascarelesslyblown acrosshiswhiteforehead; evenamother’s fussingcarecouldnot havekeptitinplace. Backatthehotel hisbridewasinconsolable. DesperatelyIsought somewordsofcomfort, thefutilityofallwords henceforthaccepted, asthedecayofhishard brightfleshindeath hadtobeaccepted.

ThewordsIsoughtwere Rilke’s-fromtheElegiesyetIcouldnotremember where,andturnedthepages assheweptsilently.

Thetenthseemedlikely; butno,thelineevadedme, asthemeaningofhisdeath seemedtoevademe.

Thefourth,theninthbothfailedtoelicit thelongedforpassage. Iallbutlostheart.

Wordhadarrived, theferrymustdepart; wassteamingatthejetty withoneplaceleftfor theheartbrokengirl stillsittingoppositeme inthetwilightroom, -faded,adaguerreotypeseekingsomeword, somegestureoffarewell beforeherdeparture forthemainland. They couldwaitnolonger, yetsheseemedunwilling togo,seekingmyface abovethebook,hereyes fullofdumbsorrow. Suddenlythewords werebeforemyeyes, blackonthewhitepage; asifIhadmadethem myself,outofher unbearablegrief. Ofcourse-thesixthIshouldhaveknown. She,turningatthedoor withagestureboth hopefulanddespairing, paleinthetwilight, unfinished-EdithHarms inwater-colour andpencil-andI, bookinhand,saying: « Wunderlich nah ist der Held doch den jugendlich Toten. » asifIhadfound thekeytocreation;

andshe,herfacelit asifbysunbeams, rushedbackandkissedme lightlyonthecheek, almostasif theSpanishInfluenza thathadkilledher andwouldkillhim threedayslater wasabenediction.

-ADREAMOFEGONSCHIELE-

Thetracksofourancestors passquiteclosetothe glowingairterminal;

Intheirunseenfootprints wetreadthepathofourown stratification.

Settingout,thesun castgiantmegalithic shadowsaheadofthem;

Inthelengthening rock-liketotemstheywitnessed thedeathoftheirbodies;

Huddledtogether coldlycradledinsnow theyshiveredtostandingstones:

Awarmwalledsociety’s sacrificialvictims toitsunknowngods.

Gatwickairport glowsatnight likeabee-hive; itsbright goldenfacade promiseshoney

InFarringdonRoad Ilaidmyhead onaconcretepillowmybackturned totheworld, Mymouth fullofdirt. Acrosstherailwaytrack, inthedistance, Wren’sdome liftsitshead amidencroaching glassconformity.

Inthebeginning Godcreated theheavensandtheearth andform roseoutofchaos. Twopoliceman standwithme inthedoorway; theirhands onmylegsandbody areefficient butarenotkind.

DrivinghometoLondon fromChichester, theapproachingtrees emergingoutofblackness intheundippedheadlights, knowingatlast whatEliotreallymeant, myhandsseemed tobelongtosome desperateterminal patient,longed towrenchthewheel fromtheskillful reasonablehands, tosmashthecar againstthebland kindbeckoningtrees.

Hometomenow iscessationoffeeling; tohavedonewith shivering,with despairing,with sheerendlessness; nottoneed,orwant, ordesire;only tocease.

Therewasaday whenthesunshone, whentheskywasblue: thenawind, carryingclouds, ruffledtheempty grassslope toadifferentcolour; inthemovingshadows atmyfeet layadrownedfledgling, bonyandfragile, itsfeathersstillwet withthenight’srain.

Gatwickairport atnightgrowsbright asabee-hiveTonight fog hasshutitdown.

CZECHOSLOVAKIA: 4YEARSAFTER

Rose,pluckedintimeof Insurrection,remainfed Withoppressor’sblood.

OLYMPISCHETOTEN

Steppingoutofthehelicopters intotheMunichdark, thesteeloftheirweapons wasalreadymovingintheirbodies, thetremblingintheirstomachs beingcastinsmoothbronze.

Whenthefirstbulletsthuddedhome amarvellousalchemycongealedtheirblood intheecstasyofpureaction. Nolongermerelyhuman, theyfrozeintothevariouspostures ofviolentdeath: hand-grenadepitched, machine-gunsputtering, standing,fallen,kneeling,prone, eachmovedintoposition forthefinalworkofart.

Groupedtogether,thehopelessgesturesofeternity becamesculpturedmetal,thesmoothlimbsbronze underfoldsofbronzecloth, thefirstmetallicleavesofautumn blowingaroundthem inthedark Munich night.

hewouldnotraisehiseyesorlifthishead itgaveherasurprisehismothersaid

hewouldnotlearnwhenhewassenttoschool theteachersaidthathewasjustafool hewouldnotstanduponhisweddingnight hispantsaroundhisankleslookedasight

ahelicoptermovedacrossthesky itwasthelastdayofhislastJuly hestoodinRegent’sParkinthebrightsun hewasaloneinspiteofeveryone theconstablewhofoundhimlyingthere saidonlythewindwasmovinghisdeadhair pathologistswhoopeneduphischest saidtheycouldnotdeterminecauseofdeath morticianstriedtomakehisfacelooknice hiswifeandmotherglancedathimjusttwice thewormsthatcrawledintohisballstobreed swallowedthejunksofdeadwhiteuselessseed gorgedonhisfleshbetweenhisribswhitebars theycarriedhimpiecebypiecebacktothestars

DREAM SONNET

Ifthedreamerwakesbeforethedreamisfinished, MustArthurRimbaudcrouchbythelaburnumtree, MustEgonSchielewank,withnocontrollinghand Compellinghimtoviewthatawfulnakedness.

Ifthedreamerstirs,erect,thedreamhalf-finished, MustParliamentremaininsession,waiting,and MustIleavetheChristmasparty,reluctantly, Toloiteroutsideappalledbythesuddenemptiness.

Butifthedreamerdreamsthedream-poemfinished, MyfathershallnottarrylonginPurgatory, NorTonybleed,eternallydistressed;

Jesusshallpluckthenailsout,stepdownjauntily, TofindintheshatteredchaosofHishand TheworldHecreatedoutofabloodysea.

THEMOSAICMAN

TheVampireishere Hisfoodisbloodanddeath Beholdhimifyoudare Hebreatheslivingbreath

Helovestheendofspring ThelastdayofJuly Nourishedondyingthings Hismagpieheartisdry

Askeletonbyday Heputsonfleshatnight Thesmallbrightstonesinlay Disguisethegrinningfright

Glimpsedthroughthecracksbetween Theboneofhisskullawan Mirrorforyourbaddreams BeholdtheMosaicMan

flyinglowmidwayonhislastjourney londonwaslikeatoy-townhehadknown once·asachild·wherehecouldplayunending games·wherethestreetsandshopswereallhisown

thefieldsofloveandfamestretchedoutbelowhim thegloryoftheworldcouldstillbehis onlythetearshefeltstinginghiseyeballs toldhimhislifehadendeduplikethis

slidingdownthesilversnakeofriver ashehaddoneindice-gamesasachild hewouldnotthrowagainnorseekaladder thedownwardurgeitselfhadbecomemild

thethingshe’dwantedmosthadneverhappened hefelt·beforetheobliteratinggreen thescaldingliquid·thinkingitwaspetrol nothim·boy-scared·wakingfromabaddream

ididnotmeantowriteapoemabouthim hewasproudandvain·perhapsnotverybright butchoosinghisdeathhechosemeouttoseeit flashinganinstantonthedarkernight

PROMETHEUS

(BRÂNCUȘI)

Feelingnolonger thebeakofthedarkvulture herests

Hisbody notnowpartofhim thechainsandnailsbitinto aheapofcoldstones

Polishedbyyearsofthenights hisbronzeheadanswered thesun’squestionings

Highinthemountains hisgiftnomoreaburden featureless hesleeps

Inthedarkness, strangetomethen, adouble-headedflame

Roseheavenward, twin-voiced, itsmouthsfullofblood.

=Ourhearts neverbeat totheirmanhood

Dreamingof aheroism unattainable

Inpeacefuldeathschoolboysandfriends wetrodthepath

Ofourstrange unexpected martyrdom Scarcelyglancing overourshoulder atthealready Alien winterstreet. -daylightlayahead

Inthefurnace wemovedthrough painlessly-

Hardandred asdrypomegranates wesplitopen

Toreveal thehost ofpinkseeds

Bursting onthepalate likeGod’sbloodHell andPurgatory behindus

Wemoved upthefamiliarhill leavingonly Twocarcasses ofroastedmeat -thefleshandoffal

Ofascant lifetimeandasweet Liquidtaste onthelips ofthose

Whohadlovedus andwhoremember= Theirvoices

Sankintosilence amidtheflame andImovedon throughthe liftingdarkness towardsthe

Distant flickeringlight whereUlysses’

Wandering tongueoffire wouldtellmeofhisdeath.

MAHLER71973(NewYear’sEve)

Anotheryearisgone. Evilsmilesinthemoonlight Welaughatthesun. Consciousnessnowencompasses RembrandtandBrâncuşi CallasandTheFarmWemoveacrossthedarkenedlake Towardsanunknownisland,peacefulandgrim; Theferrymanacceptsourcoinsand Gauntlysilent,hoversattheprow: Butnooarplashesinthewater Disturbingthesummer’send Withinspiration,drawnGod-like Fromthesurroundinggloom.

THEDEATHOFACTAEON

Thejunksoffleshtornfromhisconsciousness Werestag-meat,heastagtohisgreathounds. Washeastag? Seeinghernakedness Didbranchingantlersgrow,hoovespawtheground?

Didshe,whilebathinginthepureness Ofherchasteglade,distracted,lookaround Toseethosehugeeyes,hardwithlustfulness, Peerfrombetweenleaves? Didsheunderstand

Thenatureoftheangershefeltgrow, Watchingthosesleekbrownloins,thatrisingflesh? Didhefeelstirringinhistasseledpouch

Seedsofthatdog-death? Bloodwasinhismouth. Didhe,thegameinhislastinstant,know Thisastheonlysatisfyingchase?

SHECHEM

Simeonletmegriphishandlikeavice Solicitousasanhospitalmatron

Ididnotcryout

FeelingLevi’sfumblinghands Knowingtheblade’sagonyalready Havingimagineditanhundredtimes Preparingmyselfforthismoment

Itwasasmallthingtheyaskedofme

TellingmeofAbraham’sflintknife OfIshmael’stenderflesh Thehilloftheforeskins Andthesoldierslyingprostrate Weakaskittensonthethirddayafter

Tellingmeitwasasmallthingtosacrifice

ButHamormyfatherthepainthepain

Lyingnowinthedarknessofmyroom Onthethirddayweakasakitten TellingmyselfaloudthatDinahismine Drowningwithmyownvoicethevoiceofthepain

Soonshewillcome Hercoolhandscarrying Thesoothingbalm

Imustnotthinkofher Theysayeachdaybringsmorehealingcomfort

SoonIshallfeelnothing

Hands

Partthedoorflap

Ashaftofdaylightfallsacrossmybody

Dinahmylovemylove

Twosilhouettes Mergewiththedarknessoftheroom Astheflapcloses

Levi Simeon Isthatyou

Youbringsomeointment Somehealingcompound

Simeonheldmyhandstothegroundlikeavice

Itwasnotneedful Theweaknessinmylimbsprecludedstruggle

FeelingLevi’sfumblinghands Thebladethistimeseemedalmostkind

DEATHOFANAVIATORII

Alone

InthemiddleoftheAtlantic, Histwenty-fiveyearsofmemories Kepthimalive; Thesunontheseabelow Becamethetwinklinglights Ofanhundredsmalltowns; Hisplaneanotherplane, Heavywithair-mail.

The Flying Fool Lucky Lindy

Hewasaboy Inthehouseatnightfall; Thefuneral Ofhisgrandfather’sarm Aritualsolemnasflying; Orelsestretchednaked Onarockbytheriver, Dryinginthesun,aroundhim

Allthatsparklingwater

The Flying Fool Lucky Lindy

Thehero WholandedinParis, Whofrettedforhisplane Asthecrowdcarriedhim Shoulder-high,whostrode Likeagiantacrosstheearth,meeting ThePrinceofWales,smiling,laconic, Wasstillthatboy InhiscockpitovertheAtlantic.

The Flying Fool Lucky Lindy

Itsavedhim, Thattimelessjourney, Thatisolatedmoment

Inthemiddleofhisfirstfiftyyears; Thewholeofhislifetime Containedinthosethirty-threehours: Whentheytookhisbaby, Nothingcouldconsolehim Butthatmemoryofsunontheocean.

The Flying Fool Lucky Lindy

Theyears, Followinglikebitterfruit, Turnedtoashesinhismouth; Theworld Thathehadonceheldinhishand, Grewlarger,moredistant,remote; Disgruntled,hegrewfurtherintohimself, HisbusinessandhisAmerica: Hisfleshbecameheavyandsad.

The Flying Fool Lucky Lindy

Thecancer, Whenitcameatlast,surprisedhim; He,havingfeltitgrowforforty-twoyears, Wonderedwhyithadtakensolong: Dying,herealisedwithapangofjoy Thathecouldstillfly, HighabovetheAtlantic,alone; ‘TheSpiritofSt.Louis’silver, Catchingthesun.

The Flying Fool Lucky Lindy

Hisobituary

Appearedinallthenewspapers: Hisburialwasafamilyaffair, Isolatedfromtheworld

Aswhenhebidhismotherfarewell Withoutjournalistsorphotographers, Notknowingifhewouldseeheragain, Intimateandlonely,astheburial Ofhisgrandfather’sarmhadbeen.

The Flying Fool Lucky Lindy

TRIPLESESTINA

Afterthebirththeyletthefatherin. He,waitinginthekitchen,heardhercry Andlongedtobewithher. Themidwifecame Andsawhimbroodingbythefireplace Andsaid: It’salright. You’vealovelyson. Hisheavyfarm-bootssoundedintheroom.

Atfirsthecouldnotseeinthebedroom. Theblindsweredrawn. Thesunlightfilteredin Dimly. Then,inthegloom,hesawhisson Nestledagainstthemother,hisfirstcry Stoppedbytheflowofwarmmilk. Thewholeplace LookedlikethescenetowhichtheMagicame.

And,crossing,hetoolikeapilgrimcame, Hushedbytheholysilenceoftheroom, Bythemiracleofbirth. Theveryplace Where,justbeforeChristmas,hehadenteredin Gentlyanddeeply,hearinghiswifecry, Had,bySeptember,blossomedwithhisson:

Theautumnbirth,unnoticed,ofason. Henextdayearlytothevillagecame Riding,wenttothebar,andheardhimselfcry: Drinksallround! Feelinghisjoyatlasthadroom Tomanifestitself. Hecouldfillin Theformaldetailslater: Sexandplace

Ofbirth. Byafternoonhefoundtheplace Andregisteredthebirthdayofhisson. Aclarkwastheretohelpfilltheformin. Nighthadalreadyfallenwhenhecame Ridingbackhomeward,picturingtheroom, Thebed,hiswife;hearingthebaby’scry

Theroom,thebed,hiswife,thebaby’scry Wereallashehadleftthem;thewholeplace Wouldalwaysbethesame: Enteringtheroom Thatfirsttime,forthefirstglimpseofhisson, Hadfixeditselfforever: Sohecame (Aflycaughtinthatambermoment)in.

Thehospitalwhereshewaslying-in Wasnewandsterile. Noupsettingcry Couldpenetratethewalls. Herhusbandcame Butshewasstillunconscious. Inthisplace, Sounfamiliar,shall,hethought,myson Firstseetheworld. Hesatinthewaitingroom.

Atlasttheycalledhimtotheprivateroom. Hisandthenurse’sfootstepsechoedin Theemptycorridor. Hisnew-bornson Wouldbethereinthemother’sarms;hiscry Wouldbreaktheawfulsilenceoftheplace. Thenurseheldthedooropenandhecame

Silentlytothebedside. Withhimcame Ahostofoldghostscrowdingthroughtheroom, Makingfamiliarnowthealienplace. Firstcamehisfather,stalkingproudlyin, Seeingthebedroom,hearingthebaby’scry, Caughtinthatmomentwithhisnew-bornson,

Seeingthatson,nowadult,withhisson Forminganotheramberbead. Nextcame Therowsofforebears,drawntherebythecry Acrossthecenturies. (Nosound-proofroom Againstimmortalears.) They,filingin, Stoodintheirserriedranksaroundtheplace,

Eachinthewaythat,inadifferentplace, Theyhadoncestood,seeinganew-bornson. Lastly,almostdiffidently,camein Astrangeparadeofphantoms. Astheycame Eachseemedthesame. Andyet? Intotheroom Firstcreptaschool-boy,drawntherebythecry;

Thenayoungsoldier,hearingthelastcry

Ofsomedeadcomrade;then,takinghisplace, Abanker;thenabroker;tilltheroom Encompassedhiseveryage. Seeingtheirson Asleepnow,theygrewfainterandbecame Onewiththefather,lookedoutfromwithin.

Wesatinthetaxi,werenotgoingin. Theninthedarkweheardhermuffledcry Weranthroughtheshatteredsilence. Aswecame Intotheunlithallweknewtheplace Hadsuddenlygrowndifferent. Omyson! Ourmotherstoodthereintheemptyroom.

Andthatwasit. She,intheemptyroom, Wasnotalone. Wesensedit,comingin. Shestoodthere,crying,whispering: Myson! Mydaughter! HolyMary,hearmycry! MotherofGod,pleasehelpus. Andtheplace, Ourhometillthen,wasstrange. Andsowecame

Intothebedroom,andourchildhoodcame Silentlywithusintothatsilentroom, Notknowingitwouldneverleavetheplace But,lookinguponthebed,woulddietherein. SeeinghimdeadIdidnotevencry: Iamhisson,hisson,hisson,hisson

Andheisdeadforever: Wasason Hushedandrespectfulwhenthedoctorcame Andtolduswhatweknew. Ididnotcry, Butstooddry-eyedwithinmyfather’sroom, Wonderingwhattodo,howtofillin Thedays,nowtheworldhadendedinthisplace.

Daddy,youwereaworld. Thisisnoplace Toendajourney. Onceyouwereason, Borntoafarmingfather,grewupin AruralScotland,leftforthecity,came Throughabloodywar,toendupinthisroom Alone,nofathertohearyourlastcry.

Daddy,Iamalone. ToyouIcry Knowingyoucannothear. Iknowthisplace Wasonceyourhome,isnowanemptyroom. Theuniverseisempty. Ifyourson Criedlikeababy,wouldyoucome. Icame; Myunbornsonstillstrugglingwithin.

TrappedinmyloinsIhearmyforebearscry: Eachofuscame,thinkingthiswastheplace Youandyoursonshalldieinanemptyroom

SCOREFELL

(ForDavidHill,15,andColinPace,19.)

Thetwoyoungmen,theyaredead,theyaredead! Theyarefrozeninthesnow! Theywentforawalkandaredead,andaredead! Letthemgo! Letthemgo!

Didtheydozeoffeventually,thinkingtowake? Ordidtheyknowtheywoulddie? Didtheyfeelthemselvesslipaway,feeltheirheartsbreak, Staringupatthefrozensky?

Didthemenwhodiscoveredthemfeel‘neaththeirhand

Theunwrinkled,unweariedflesh Becomecoldasmarbleeternally,and Animagetheylaterwouldcherish?

Didthepublicwhoheardofthedeathsseethemgo

Astwoyoungmendeaderetheirprime; Orseethetwoladshuddledcloseinthesnow, Sidebysidefortheverylasttime?

Didtheparentswhowatchedthetwobodiesbroughthome Seethelimbstheyhadnurturedandloved Smoothindeath,icy,cold;bringthesnowydeathin Tothewarmhearthtolodgethere,unmoved?

No,thetwoofthemcameforthtoclimbupScoreFell; FromBarrowtheycameallalone: AndthoughColinkeptpacewithhisDavid,thehill Wastoostrong,andtheydiedturnedtostone.

EPITAPHFORNIGELPRICE

(Sunday2ndMay1976)

ToNigelPrice,thefirstbornandthelasttodieofthePricesixtuplets.

I

PoorlittleNigelPrice Livedouthisweekoflife

Inthepalebuddingspring Sawdeathasagreening GodresthissoulinChrist II

PoorlittleNigelPrice Kepthistenuousholdonlife Astheothersletgo Wouldnotgiveinandso GodresthissoulinChrist III

PoorlittleNigelPrice Couldnotresignhislife

Tillhissoulhadgrown Amatchforourown GodresthissoulinChrist IV

PoorlittleNigelPrice Hadtouseupalife

In7daysand2hours (Wouldhisfatewereours) GodresthissoulinChrist

ECLOGUES HAMLET IN HOPLANDS

Hamlet,dying, Iamtheghost attemptstoput Thehauntedandthehaunter intosomesort Iamtheweapon oforderinhis Andthewoundedflesh feverishbrain, beforethepoison Iamthefuneralmarch takesitsfull Thecorpseandmourner effect,thedetails Iamthediamond ofwhathadhappened Andthemortaltrash afterhediscovered, twodaysoutof Iamtherefuge Denmark,thathis Andtherefugee unclewassending Iamtheprisoner himtohisdeath Andtheturningkey inEngland. Iamthefuture Iamhistory

Trustingnobody, Thiscountrysideforme hehadwrittento Ismyfather’smemory Horatio,tellinghim ofanimagined

Hisbroadhands rescuebypirates Aretheland onthethirdday ofthevoyage.

Hisblueeyes Then,landingon Thecountryskies theKentcoast, hehadengineered

Hisforearmstrong hisescapefrom Asthemiddaysun Rosencrantzand Guildensternand, Hisstare ridingalonethrough Intodistantair thecountryside, hadbeenhaunted Alert againbytheghost Asabird ofhisfather

Yetatpeace Astheblownleaf

Hispresencefills ThegentleKentishhills

Henceforthforme Thiscountrysidewillbe Myfather’smemory

Drawingnear Atthethresholdofthelabyrinth: Hisshadow, toMaidstone Lengthening,meetstheshadowthatitbecomes; asthenight Thescarletcord,vanishingintothedarkness closedin,he Fromherwhitebody,seemslikeatrailofblood. hadsoughtto giveallegorical

Inthearteriesoftheearth: Alone,hissoul significance Feelschillsubterraneanfear;hiseyes tohisdilemma. Scanimpenetrablenight,starebeyond Theblanklimitsoftheabyss,seekingthemonster.

ItisHere. Attheheartofthecave: Hediscerns Labouriousbreathing,sensesbestialmovement, Plungeshisswordlikesunlightintothevoid.

Backintheworld: Theyseewhathehaskilled. Shetriestocomforthim,knowingthereisnone. Hecrieslikeababy,enteringherwomb.

Inaneffortto

Intheshadowof escapefromhis thehanginghop-bines fateandthedemons sunrarelypenetrates, ofhismind,hehad mossgrowsemerald takenalabouring ontheground. jobonahopandfruit farm. Yeteverywhere Thehopsloopdown heperceivesparallels likebunchesofpale withthepastand featherygreengrapes hintsofaninescapable fromthewiredcheckerboard future. Oneday,in ofbluesky. themiddleofthe hop-fields,hehad

Hereiscoolness pausedbetweenthe andshade. Hereis rowsofbinesto aCézannelandscape. rethinkhissoliloquy. Butnowhere permanence.

Halfthefield alreadystands inadesertofsun; mosseshavevanished, theearthdriedout.

Relentlessly theapproaching chuckchuckchuck ofthehop-knife leavesexposed

Thewoodandwire skeleton ofthewintertocome, starkinthe Septembernoon.

Fromthebine-tracks metaljaws hanginggreencarcasses moveformally intothemachine.

Soonthefield’s geometryof suddenhoplesswire willbesilent ofrustlingleaves;

Fieldbyfield ofintenseactivity willdieaway toanhiatus ofexhaustedearth; Soontheseshadows willbeamemory onabaresunlitstage whereIemerge forthefinalscene.

Butnotyet. Notforalittle whileyet. Herenow incoolnessandshade thehopsloopdown:

Beneathblue squaresofsky palefeatherygrapes hanginbunches amongtheleaves.

Delayinghisdeparture, HisKentishhandsarecountryhands, hehadcuthisfinger Hardenedbyyearsoffarmingwork, tothebonewhile Markedwiththinwhiteknife-woundscars, sharpeningahop-knife Calmlymethodicalastheytend onthelastdayof theharvest. Toldto HisDanishhands,frailcityhands, gotothehospitalfor Swollenwithunaccustomedwork, ananti-tetanusinjection Restlesslymovinginrepose, asaprecautionagainst Theknuckleslicedopendrippingblood. aninfectedblade, insteadhehadhad HisKentishhands,dabbingthewound, thewounddressed Showunexpectedgentleness, byJohnSlattery, Tyingthebandagelightlyround afarmerofsome twenty-three HisDanishhandwithsuddengrace, yearsstanding. Comfortingastheirownhealedwounds, Impossibleastheirtenderness.

Walkingslowlyback Returningalone throughthedesolate throughCanyonatevening landscapeofempty thesuncaughtastone. polesandwires,he hadstoppedinCanyon,thelasthop-fieldtobecleared,topickupamemento.

Stillkicking

IfthiswereArdenandOrlandoI, againsthis Lostintheforest,clearlyquiteathome, fate,hehad Seekingabranchtohangmylatestpoem, agreedtostay Nailinggraffitifasttoeverytree, onforthe fruitpicking.

I’dtraceupontheblueOctoberday Sonnetswhereexiledlovers,forcedtoroam Inshadowybowers,answermoanformoan, LovingtheIdeal,whethergirlorboy

ButIamHamlet,PrinceofElsinore, Astrangeramidpeartrees,whereIfind Thelaceratingbranchesofmymind, Rankweedsandlonggrassstrewtheorchardfloor,

Andheremypoemslikedeadlynightshadesdroop Frompurplestemstheirpoisonoussoftfruit.

Pickingapples theseason oneafternoon almostover onaladder against highabovethe theappletree Bramleys,hehad stoppedwork, aheavy suddenly,aware woodenladder ofanabandoned thrustsinto laddernearby, infinity juttingbeyond thefloorof above tree-tops, theforkingbranches leadingnowhere: itsempty uselessrungs below theorchardstretches itsfloorofgreen becomes agentle harvest-haunted vacancy thatfills thesunlit autumncheckerboard ofdistant Kentishhills overhead ajetplane impossibly high traces featherywhitenesson indifferent bluesky

Seekinganobjective theuniverse correlativeforhis hasjumpedagrove ownsenseofalienation, continues hehadreinterpreted toreplay thehumancondition inthelightofmodern theabsent baby-caretheories, elementallove asaracialmemory withdrawnonthat ofseparationfrom firstday theparentforthe firstdayoflife; fruits logicallytakingit oftheforbiddentree allthewaybackto lieinthegrass theCreation. androt theGardner fromthecemetery tredsthem underfoot themoribund angelichost declines tovisitman Jacob wrestleswithaghost thetopmost emptyrung stillbreathes aquietatmosphere ofimminent goodbye thedetritus ofladder climbsblack againstthesky

tractors takeawayfullbins theapples allarepicked distinguished theologians chokeontheir rhetoric thesaints haveallbeenmartyred thevirgins alldespoiled thegods arealldeparted theirambassadors recalled

Nextmorninghehad Fogintheappletreestoday climbedtheladderagain Longleafyfingerspry inthehopeofsome Anddisappearintothedensegrey furtherrevelation. Nearnessofthesky. Butathickwhitemist, hanginglowoverthe

Betweenthewreathsofswirlingmist orchardandshrouding Emergeandfadeaway everythinginastrange ThreefiguresoutofGenesis mysterioussilence, Likeactorsinaplay. hadgivenhisfancy fullrein. Poisongushesfromthesnake. Evetakesoffherdisguise, Detumescence,foreskinback,

Adam’spenisdries: Unborngrandchildrenweedandrake Theorchardwherehedies.

Unwillingto Nowthatthishandseemsofthesebranchesmade procrastinate Strongasthemiddaysunuponthewood anylonger,on MustItoDenmarkandforgothistrade thethirdday hehadclimbed Emergingfromthehop-binestemptingshade theladderfor WhereIwouldlivealifestupidlygood thelasttime, Nowthatthishandseemsofthesebranchesmade havingdecided thathemust Tochangethehop-knifeforadeadlierblade returntoDenmark Thissunlitorchardforabarrenshroud andresumehis MustItoDenmarkandforgothistrade responsibilities.

Andatlasthe Reportingtotheworldmyselfbetrayed hadachieveda Bythestrangeweaknessofapassingmood certainunexpected Nowthatthishandseemsofthesebranchesmade illumination.

Glancingdown MustIagainthegloomymasquerade momentarilyat PrinceofthecastlewheretheymurderedGod thebranchhe MustItoDenmarkandforgothistrade isgraspingfor support,hedoes Hearingdistantfuneralmusicplayed notrecognisehis Mourningthelostfarmerinmyblood ownhand:broader Nowthatthishandseemsofthesebranchesmade andbrowner,the ImusttoDenmarkandforgothistrade forearmgrown branch-likeandthick,asmallleafytwigappearstohavesproutedfromthewrist. Heispartofthetree.

Beforeleaving HisDanishhands,stillfrailandsmooth, thefarm,hehad Restlessasever,stillunmarked saidgoodbyeto Saveforathinwhiteknife-woundscar, John. Nowjoinasoneinlastfarewell

HisKentishhands,which,havingmade Theirformalgesturesofgoodbye, ReturntotheirrestwithinthesoilStrongworkinghandsateasewithdeath.

OhDanishhands! OhKentishhands! Talkwitheachotherthroughyourwounds, Comforteachother’sbattlescars.

OhKentishhands! OhDanishhands!

Communicatingunspokenwords: Staywitheachotherthroughtheyears.

Onthevoyage Wakingatnight,theysurroundme backtoDenmark inthedarknesslikeswayingvines, hewashaunted hangintheloopsandtwists inhisdreams ofashadowyjungle. bytheghosts ofthehops.

Daysofsunlight,imprint thehop-binespatternofheavy coilingtendrilandleaf onthework-smoothretina

ofthemind,embed thetractor’slurchings,between corridorsofgreenlight, onthedreamingmentallandscape.

Ghost-Hops! Duskysilhouettes oftheday’slabour,skeletons ofafarmingpast,wave theirlimbsingentlereproach.

Landingina Rain thunderstorm, Commences hehadcompared Peoplescatter unfavourably Run thesoftlife oftheCourt Cower withthehard Indoorways countrylife Umbrella towhichhe Bound hadgrown accustomed. Meanwhile Inorchards Therain Trickles Frombare Workingheads

DyinginHoratio’s

JohnSlattery’shands arms,thepotent Arecountryhandspoisono’ercrowing Horatio,holdmetight! hisspiritquite, JohnSlatterybound theconfusedmind Mymortalwoundmakesfullplay Horatio,itisnight! withitsneurosis: John,whomhe

Soundthecannon imaginescoming ThatJohnmustcome tobindhiswounds, Horatio,Ihavefear Ofdyingalone, Exiled;myhome, Horatio,isnothere.

Oh! Iamslayed! Thepoisonousblade Horatio,ofMelot. becomesIseult, Yetmustshecome onherwayto Withhealingbalm healTristan, Horatio,myIseult!

Donotfail, Watchforthesail Horatio,itisnigh: Ifwordcomesback Thesailisblack Horatio,Imustdie.

Perhapstheysaid ThatIwasdead, Horatio,goodfriend! Perhapstheybring Thedyingking, Horatio,formyend.

becomes Afigurewaits Beyondthegates, Horatio,ofhorn: Flickersbetween, Horatio,thegreen Andredhawthorn.

theGardner,

Amongthebones

Andbrokentombs, Horatio,ofthedead;

Overthegrass Hissilentpath Horatio,Itread.

Hardbythetree

Hewaitsforme, Horatio,hishand becomesHamlet Grippingthebough himself, Iswoundednow, Horatio,andtanned!

Hisforearm,strong Asnoondaysun Horatio,isbare; becomeshisdead Inhisblueeyes: father, Thecountryskies Horatio,arethere!

Hispresencefills Thegentlehills, Horatio,hecomes!

Hismemory

Asfreshforme Horatio,asJohn’s.

Hishealinghands Willbindthesewounds Horatio,asbefore, Withsuchtendernessbecomehisdeadfather, Iamfatherless Horatio,nomore!

becomesJohnagain

Ishallreturn

Tomytruehome Horatio,andstand Anexileagain, Deathinmyveins..... becomes,finally,Horatio. Horatio...yourhand...

Inhislastmoments

Bloodgowned heisonceagainwandering

Thesunon alonethroughCanyonon Thehorizon theeveningofthelastday Drowned ofthehopping. Alowslanting redsunpicksoutthestone Wound heistokeepasamemento. AroundCanyon Ashewatches,thestoneseems Astone togrowenormousandred, Deadsound almosttobecomethesun-disc:

Thesun-stoneitselfseems Elsewhere tobetalkingtohim. Isviolence Resthere Insilence Darkwhere Thebineis

Horatio,unclaspinghisdeadfingers,findstheblood-drenchedstonestilllyinglightlyonthepalmofhis lefthand. ItistheheartofHamlet.

CHRISTMAS‘77

Todaythefabulousboyisborn, ‘Neaththecriss-crosshedgehelies, Blood-dropsonthewildhawthorn Hangbetweenhimandtheskies: Jewelled,amilk-whiteunicorn Piecesthebabyashecries.

Todaythefabulousboyforlorn, IntheTemplecircumcised, Bloodbedewed,thecruciform Infantonthealtarlies: Rubiesrounditsgoldenhorn Sparkleinthecreature’seyes.

Todaythefabulousboyistorn, Stretchedout,opentotheskies, Bloodrunsdownhismilk-whiteform, Slowly,painfully,hedies: Thefabulousdeadunicorn ShallbewithHiminParadise.

Andhewentdownontothebeach,diggingbetweentherockswithastick,occasionally bendingtoexamineanemptyshell;

Andthetidewasrisingslowly,slowlyrising,growingmuffledbehindhim,cuttingoffhis escaperoute,eatingintothesand;

Andhedidnotlookaround,didnotturn,intentonthebusinessathand,intentonthe minuteexaminationoftheleft-overlifeofthestrewnebb-tide, Intentontheformerhomesofthedeadmolluscs,thehusksofextinctsea-creatures,the driedpiecesofseaweed,theskeletonsofindecipherablefish;

Andtheflood-tidegrewloudinhisears,poundingonthebeach,frothingoverpittedsand, precipitatingthehastywithdrawaloflong,glisteningworms;

Butthebloodpoundinginhismindwasonlytheremembranceofthepoundingsea,was onlyashellheldtohisear,carryinghimbackintothepast,intohistory;

Andthentheboysappeared,playinginthedistance,boundingoverthebeachlikedogs atplay,barkinglikedogsintheirecstasy,intenseaschildrenatnightfall,playing, waitingtobecalledbyinvisibleparents;

Andhiseyesfollowedthem,followedthelongloopsoftheirsuddenruns,followedthe longtracksoftheirprintscrossingandrecrossing,dissolvingonthewetforeshore;

Andhisheartfollowedthem,followedtheirsomersaults,followedtheirspontaneous adolescentantics,followedthesuddenrestingoftheirbodiesonthesand;

Andhismindfollowedthem,followedthesublimespontaneousnessoftheiractions, followedthedartingjoyoftheirsuddenness,theunfetteredfreedomoftheirNow; Andtheflood-tidepoundedonthebeach,unnoticed,thenarrowpathwayofsandallbut coveredbytherisingsea;

Andstillhedidnotturn,didnotseetheonlyarteryofescapeslowlyclosing,siltedupby theerodingwaters;

Andtheydidnotseeit,intent,laughing,free,themselves,ashehadbeenhimselfandfree, beforethetidehadgoneout,beforehehadbeenleftstranded,withallthedebris, alone;

Andhewasnotalonenow,standing,solemn,watchful,apieceofdriftwoodinhishand, carvinglightundecipherablehieroglyphicsonthewetsandathisfeet;

Andhewasnotalone,watchingtheboys,hismindjoinedthem,wrestled,rolled,played, aformalcounterparttotheirraggedromping,adroningbass-notetothebubbling figurationoftheirdance;

Andthetiderose,pounding.

Andheknewthatthetheorieshehadformulatedallhislifewereasnothingcomparedto thiscelestialliberation,thisdreamonthebeachintheearlymorning;

Andthetiderose;

Andhewasnotalone;

Andthesoundofthepoundingwavesgrewlouderinhismind;

Andheturned,seeinghimselfstrandedbytheincomingtide,seeingtheboysstillplaying, unaware;

Andhecalledtothem,warningthemtogetout,callingovertheroaringpoundingofthe watersinhisears;

Buttheydidnotseemtohear,stillintentontheirplay,stillrollingandwrestling,thewet seaweedstickingtotheirtorn,ruffledclothes;

Andhecalledagain,moreurgent,hisvoicecarriedawaybytherisingwind,hecalledand theycouldnothear;

Andhewasglad;

Andthentheystoppedtheirplay,andcame,andstoodbeforehim,solemn,silent; Andtheylookedatoneanother,andtheyturnedtheirheads,andtheireyesmethisinthe earlymorninglight;

Andthetiderose

Pounding

Thetide,receding,leavesbehindthedebrisofathousandlives

Thecigarette-butts,papercups,orangepeels,condoms

Thegarbageofaslowlydyingplanet

Togetherwiththehusksofextinctsea-creatures,thedriedpiecesofseaweed,theskeletons ofindecipherablefish,theshellsoflong-deadmolluscs

And,earlyonSaturdaymorning,the19thofFebruary,1977, Thedrownedbodiesoftwoboys:JamesToveyandMarkLeighton,bothfifteen,who hadtakenaferrytotheIsleofWightand,whilebeachcombing,hadbeencaught bytheincomingtide

And,strandedonthewhitesheetsofthebed,theformerhomeoftheRightHonourable MemberofParliamentforGrimsbyandForeignSecretary,Mr.AnthonyCrosland Lies,likeanemptyshell,hollowedofpoliticalthought Stillsoundingfaintlyofthesea.

THEFEBRUARYPOOL

Beneaththeglassysheetoficehisbodyliesfloating. Hisheadisperfectstill,close-cropped,unmoving. Thewinterhasendedhisabstractrunning. Deadeyesstarethroughfrozenwater,mirrorthesky. Heissafe. Februarywindswillpassover Thefrozenpool,unruffled. Sleeping,hewatches Thedistortedlandscapeofoursuffering

Likethechildhewillalwaysbenow;sees Onlytheunregardedwintermomentofthedeath Herantowardseagerly,whenfamiliarthingsbecame Strangeandcomforting,achoiceforeverbeyondhischoosing. Throughthesuddenicehehearsthedistantwordsofangels; Sees,intheunexpectedwonderofablueicesky, Theirpassingimagesreflected;soarsabovetheice; Joinsthemintheirunrecordedflight;acknowledges, Reluctantly,hisultimateseasonwiththedead.

POLYNEICESUNBURIED

UnburiedonthebattlefieldIlay. Thesiegewasover. Dustwasinmymouth. Thebes,thatwasminenow,tastedoftheearth. Myvictorywasbitterasdecay

Weplayedourpartslikeactorsinaplay But,withascenetogo,hadlostourbreath. Mymotherandmybrothercoldasdeath. Onlymysisterstillhadlinestosay

Butwouldnotplayherpart. Shewouldnotweep. Shewouldnotscrapetheeartharoundmyhead. Shewouldnotjoinusinourdreamlesssleep.

Shewouldnotmournoverherrecentdead. But,laughinglikeaPhoenixinthesun, Shetouchedwithflameourhearts. Wehadbegun.

-V-1977

I GRAVEOFAWARRIOR

Sunkindeath, thelineamentsofhardsoldierflesh aretracednowbythebone’sfragilityhisskeleton, safefromtheultimate democracyofdeath, markedoutatcrucialpoints bythefragmentsofatransitoryfame, oxidisedbuckleandsword-blade, wristletandshield-bossandfastening-pin, sterilestarsofhispuissantsummer, emblematicconstellations immutablenow inthezodiacofrustandearth.

II GRAVEOFARICHFEMALE

Rich,respected Anglo-Saxonmatriarch, sureofyourrankandposition, nowyoumustdwell intheegalitariangraveonlytheamethystandgold broochatyourthroatremains, fasteningnothing; whiletheuselessfragment offlakingironkey stillkeepssafeyourlastsecrets, dustwiththeboxwhichcontainedthem, itsrustedlock fastshutagainsteternity.

EUROPEAFTERTHERAIN

Thecloudsarescattered Theskyisblueagain WhatshallbecomeofEurope

Whereshallwefindrefuge Inthisaridplain Insentiencecreepsover

Mankindisdying Theseobelisksremain Thisstratifieddetritus

AftertheRain

Thehumanbrain

Wehaveourinheritance Thelandscapeinthisframe Uselessnowassessing

Life-likeandstrange

Thelossorgain

Thefloodhassubsided Theworldisnewandchanged WhatshallwedowithEurope

AftertheRain

MAYDAY

AmaidcameforthoneMaymorning Theskywasstarryblue Thefrozenmoonwaswaning Shesoughtthemorningdew

Shesoughtthemorningdew,shesought ThebeautyoftheMay Thatdew-brightmoonlightbeautycaught Beforethebreakofday

Shewanderedovermoonlitpaths Theworldwaslostinsleep Bendingshetouchedthedewygrass Secretwherewatersmeet

Shesawtheuniverseembossed Oneverydropofdew Shesawoldage,herbeautylost Andalltheyearswoulddo

Shesawherpalefacetremblingthere Inthepalemoonlight Caughtineachdew-drop,prisoner Ofthatstarrynight

Theyfoundhernextday,coldassnow Underacoppersun Stillbathingherstoneybeautythough Thelastdewwasgone.

METAMORPHOSES

ItseemsIcanstillseehim

LongingforRome Dyinganexileamongbarbarians Prisonerofalostworld Existingonlyinhisunattendedmoments

Thus did he catch a gleam Beyond the hawthorn barrier Of white gravestones between The dark red-berry clusters And the leaves dusty green

Nothingcouldconsolehim

Neitherthesimplekindness Ofthepeasantsnorthememory Ofthemarvellouschangeswrought Inallbutthedumbinstinctself

Thus did he tread a path Among the decaying tombs The same impacted earth Mute with ancient bones Whispering secret death

NowIcanunderstand

Theutterdesolation Ofhisthriceexiledspirit Losttohimselfhiscountry Andthegodsofhisimagination

Thus did he stop to see Within an open grave The unthought of banality Ovid poet of change Without gods or poetry

OVIDAMONGTHESCYTHIANS

Nothingwilleverchange. Thelightofthelastsunset touchesthehighestpoint ofthehill. Wispsofmist

linethevalleywithblue shadows. Deadgreywaters mirrorhisflatdespair. Hesinksontotheground.

Hislastmetamorphoses, thisgranddesolation complete,night,forever abouttofall,darkens thementallandscape, mutesthecoloursof aneveningwhich canneverbeaccomplished.

Thegreatblackmare, ashadowamongshadows, home-boundorhalted, waits: Willshare

alwaystheselast sharpcomfortingmoments, sharethemild eternalexileofpaint.

THEFACTORY

Thefactorystands inadesertofcommerce onthederelictbanks oftheGrandUnionCanal.

Comewithme, pasttherespectable redbrickfacade, pastthepanelledwood oftheManagingDirector’s comfortableoffice, pastthequietdecorum ofthetypistandtheclerk:

Comewithme tothefactoryfloor; thesoftunderbelly ofourequality Herecorridors ofcolouredtrays arefilledamidclouds offinewhitepowder

Herethepreponderant immigrantworkers witherattheirbenches overmouldedplastic:

TheIndiangirls’ goldapplique, flashinggorgeously undertheirdustcoats;

thenewlyarrived youngblacks, stillhalf-expecting tomake‘afreshstart’.

Comewithme, pastthetedium ofthemetal-room’s interminablebrassscrews, pasttheclatter ofthewheelabrator, whereearmuffed andinsulated theoperators emerge likecreatures fromanotherworld, pastthepackingdocks andloadingbays, whereplasticparts arecleanedandboxed, whereendlessrows oflabouringfaces passthestages oftheiryouthandage:

Theoldmen, nearretirement, expectingnothing beyond‘thenextbreak’; theyoungmen, impatientstill, tastingexistence inrough-houseandjibehumour theironlyidentity, horseplay theirultimatebid

toretain somethingofchildhood, somethingofthemselves morelastingthan

thefutile tattooedforearms, the“Love from Eddie, Mum and Dad”.

Comewithme, pastthefoulvapours thatissuefrom themouldingshop, pastthesacks ofplasticpowder waitingtopassthrough thefactory’sintestines, pastthecanteen’s suddenhour ofbustling transitorylife.

Comewithme, alongthedeserted towpath,whereonly thefourfoldpetals ofthehot-drinkcup blossoms,tothebanks ofthealmostderelict GrandUnionCanal.

Hereinsilence thegrasshasgrown sincethelastgreathorse lenthispowertothebarges.

Hereonthedead greenwaterway, detritus ofanotherage, thelighterslie attheirmoorings, stillbuoyant ontheebbingtide.

Theirnames,the “Liss”, the “Mary Brent”, the “White Wings”, echothepast.

Allareshrouded intheircovers saveone loadingmetalgirders. Theloading, slowandleisurely, islikethebreathing ofanoldman; eachunhurried exhalation alongexpected certainty

Alighterman, shirtlessinthesun, sitsbetweenloads onthebulkhead; likeSeurat’s melancholybather hegazesbeforehim, whiledistant factorychimneys belchblacksmoke intothesunny Augustsky.

Hisreflection, inverted withthewhite, redandblue reflectionofhisbarge, shimmers onthewater, alreadyunreal.

Onlytheseagulls, skimminglow overthecanal, attainingtheheightrequired withafew swiftbeatsoftheir whiteandgreywings, sleekastheyglide, theirgracethegrace ofnecessity,purposeful astheshapeoftheirbeaks, onlytheseagullsarefree.

THESONGOFTHECOAT

Jaunty,twenty, acivilengineer inthemaking, Chrisisthefuture. Hisgrandfather’s IndianArmyjacket fitshimlikeaglove. Forty-sevenyearsold, pips,braids,insignia allgone,dusty fromunloadingthecontainer, itstillcutsadash asslimandupright hemarchesoverthebridge.

Hisgrandfather servedinIndia half-a-centuryagoaslim,youthful LieutenantColonel Chrisonlyknows fromafadingphotographonlyremembers intheveterans’home ofhislastfewyearsstillabletowalk fourmileseveryday afterlunch.

“Whenhedied, Nobodywantedthecoat.....”

Acrossthebridge, ahistorytoonear, Chrishshrinks toakhakiblur againstthesnow

first onlythehurteyes arenaked, regardingus frombehind therespectable hatandtie ofhisearliest Self-portrait.

At

Later, masturbating beforeamirror, theballs areclutched betweenlong bonyfingers.

Butnow EdithHarms isdying; watches impassively theunflinching Selbstseher ashesketchesout thislast preciousbastion againstmortality; manifestes, inthesunken, empty, pillow-boundfeatures, adraughtsmanship strongenough, aresignation deepenough, areality intenseenough tomakethedeath mereincident whenseenagainst theconsciousstrength ofhislines.

Threedayslater, whenhefollowedher, thereremained onlythecamera’s indifferenteye torecord anunshaven, emaciatedface, exhausted withsuffering, staringout fromthestained, emancipated pillow

DOGDAYS

OncemoreJuly hastakenitstoll. Onmotorwayverges thedrygrassesturnyellow. Trees,aweekago intheirsummerprime,growtiredandsparse.

InKensingtonCemetery, half-glimpsedbetweenthinningbranches, thecolouredslabsofflowers,stillmasking thenewgraves,witherandfadeovernight.

AsJulyends allthingsseemtomounttowards somegreat,romanticclimax;eachhour promisestobearwitnesstoitsown,unique,

neverbeforepermitted revelation. Then,inthestaletwilight, westaggerfromthepub,watchourpiss frothlikebeerdowniviedwalls, havingdrunkour farewelldrinktothesummerofpromise whichhasended,likealltheothers,enmeshed inforkingbranchesanddeadleaves.

Always the ribs show nearer the skin. In bed at night emaciated finger-tips play, ever closer, to the white ivories. Almost as if

one summer more could jerk away forever the whole, mad, complex machinery of flesh and bloodemancipate, crustacean-like, the hidden bone.

DEPARTURES

Theducksareleaving.

Iheardthemlastnight, honkingoutsidemywindowinthedarkness, answeringacalloftheblood.

TodayIsawthem, emblematicshadowsinformation, movingformallyacrossanemptiedsky intoanunanswerablesun.

ItisSeptember. Theleavesarefalling. Theairisbrightandchill. Inbranchandstemthelivingsap sinksslowlyintowinter; respondstothecallofitsvegetableroots.

WhenshallIanswertheCall? South! South! Noargument. Noequivocation. Toinfusemyselffully: Intolife. Intoprimalbarbarity. Intothehouseofthesun.

ThreeyoungAustraliansinvade theearlymorningtubetoEalingBroadway, gauche,noisy, withtheiryet-to-besophisticatedblood.

Whiletheprimsecretarysittingopposite, definedbyherreadingmatter asaLatintagdefinesanurseryflower, isbyapostaldistrictclassified.

Butinthedarkeyesandcodedfeatures oftheyoungSouthAmericanwhoreads ‘ElCoronelNoTieneQuienLeEscriba’,

LineamentsofanancestralSpain projectthroughtheburning-glassoftime abrokenimageofthefuture.

Eastbound, aninter-citythundersby. Istandmyground. Mytrouserswhipagainstmythighs. Mycoatbillowsoutbehind. Atmyshoulderstransientwingsunfurled willdryandstiffeninthesun preparatorytoflight.

Travellingwest,pickingupspeed, leavingLondon’spostalcodesbehindus, theendlessrowsofterracesgiveway toparklandandcemetery.

Thereisonlyonedeparture: Betweenthebone-whitemarbleslabs afresh,rawgrave gapesinthewoundedearth.

NobodystopsatHanwell.

Wejourneyon. Thetwinribbonsofrailwaylineunwind, mergealwaysfarinthedeceivingdistance, seemstrongerthanthestrandsofaspider’sweb, silverywithpromiseinthesun.

GIOVANNI’SSEARCH

DonnaAnna isonething:herprim, sterilevirginitycolderthan hermarblevulvaandbreasts.

DonnaElvira isquiteanother:heroutrage magnificent,wereitbuiltupon arockmoreworthyofhonour.

Zerlina,however, isallwoman:teasing,tender, herlivehandintheDon’s eclipsesastoniergrasp.

L’IMPRÉVU

Deathwouldsurpriseusby itsunexpectedness hadnoteachlittledeath likeaparalysis grantedimmunity.

Sowemustallsharethe uniqueandcommonplace processoflivingwhere customhassquanderedour lastserendipity.

THEDEATHOFOSCARROMERO

Stonesthebreadwetakeoutoftheovens Doing this in memory of him Leadtheironenteringoursouls Parched now in the sunlight of unknowing

Spentbeyondthebullet’spunctuation Doing this in memory of him Nakedundertheharshstarsatnoon Parched now in the sunlight of unknowing

Couldthecrackedadobeofourhearts Doing this in memory of him Drinksuchdangerousunconsideredblood

Excepthisbodycoldasbrokenstones Parched now in the sunlight of unknowing Blasphemethegrammaroftheinjuredearth

THETRIUMPHOFAPOLLO CYPARISSUS’SLASTERECTION

Treadingthefirewebecameone

Theemberswereredrosesatourfeet Bareourfeetourbodiesnaked Followingthedestinyofthesun

HeandIropedtogether Acordofknottedfireslungbetween Heslouchedaheadslowlymoving Firstonebuttockthentheother

DidIthendesireyouasflesh Yourflatbrownbelly’shiddenlabyrinth Thecentreofyourintimacywon

OrdidIwantthisstiffeningbranchenmeshed Foreverinthesecypress-shadesofdeath

IntheendIcouldnotstandthesun

Hisnipplesdarkasrosesinthemoonlight Aretightbudsatmyfingertipscaress

Hiseyelidsflickerunderblueveinedeyelids Hislimbsarenakedsilveronthegrass

Hislimbsarenakedsilveronthegrass Clingingbetweenhislegsastightassnails Underthesurgingpowerofhisphallus Theskincrawlsroundhisvirgintesticles

Theskincrawlsroundhisvirgintesticles

Acrystaldropformsathispenisend Throughpartedlipsmytonguefindssmallwhiteteeth Hisnavelbrimswithsilver

Hewillspend

Eternityseekingmeoutinsleep

Hisnipplesdarkasrosesinthemoonlight

INNERLICHKEIT

Andthereisakitteninsideme wanderingthroughtheemptyhouseofmybody vainlyseekingitslostmother mouthstainedwithmilk

Andthereisaneagleinsideme strippingthemeatfrommyflayedbreastbone eyelidsheavywithself-love bloodonitsbeak

Andthereisagraveworminsideme lostinthewindingsofmytesticles blindastheirdarklabyrinthinecoils swallowingseminalprogeny

Andthereisanangelinsideme beautifulastheheavypetalsofroses voidinthespacebetweenribsandstars thatwillnotletmedie

Early

thegreyAugustlight stirsus half-awake.

Welie delighted, notwiththeprospect ofanotherday buthappy tobe onlyhalf-awake andgranted thesemoments spent ineachother’s company

We aretheluckyones; theworldoutside adangerousplace peopled bymonsters outofourfirst faerie-book.

But,light filteringthrough these yellowcurtains, wearesafe aschildren whohavestumbledon acertainmagic.

Thealarm allows nosafety innumbers. Sensible wemoveaboutahouse peopledby itsoutragedsilence.

Notevenanyrottingvegetation. Detritusonly. Unrecognisable. Thebrokentoysofacivilisation.

Perhapsthatwasacar. Thatlengthofcable mayhavecarriedimmensepoweratitscore. Now,likesomucharoundus,unusable.

Thecityisdead. Wesquatlikenatives,score thedryearthhalf-heartedlywithbrokensticks. Butthereisnowater. Scatteredonthefloor

ofanabandonedshelter,inadistrict setapart,wefindsomeoddpiecesofbone, black,jagged. Askull. Throughtheinterstices

oftherib-cage,lyinglikeableachedhair-comb half-buriedinthedust,somethingglittering amongthedebris. Achain. Asilverchain,

bright,delicate,stilluselesslycircling abonywrist. Islipitinmypocket. Onthecracked,drybedoftheriver,walking alittlebehindtheothers,thebracelet burnsmyleglikeahotcoal. Idonotknow why. Later,droppingmypants,wherethebracelet hasrubbedagainstmythigh,thegreyskinisnow redandraw. Idonotknowwhy. Donotcare. Isquattoshit. Nothingcomes. Asuddenrow

ofblackandwhitepianokeysflashandflare inmymind. Attwelve,aftermyfirstfullday’s practice,sittingonthepiano-stoolwhere,

myhandstwinedtogether,inchoatefingers throbbedoneagainsttheotherlikesmallheart-beats, aliveastheyhadnotbeenalivebefore.

Strangethetricksmemoryplays. Thepatchnowbeats onmythighinthesameway Withoutfires, wehuddletogethercloseonthehardground.

Thethrobbingstarsflameinthewindlessdarkness. Myheartbeatsandbeats. Theearthbeatsunderme. Mythighburns. Ithrustmyhandsinmypockets.

Thebraceletisthere. Lettingitsfiligree movegentlybetweenmyfingerslikelostbeads, Ilieawake. Alone,insilence,softly

fondlingthetreasure,mychillfingersburn andbeat,astheydidfirstthatdayyearsago atthepiano-stool. Myeyesfillwithtears.

Justbeforedawn,astonesinkinginapond, Ifallasleep. Softandslowthedreamappears outoftheblackness. Iamstandingalone

onahilloutsidethecity. Itisnight. Thecity,notthiscitybutmychildhood’s, stretchesoutbelowmeandthrobswithitslife.

Themotorwayscrossandrecrosslikedew-drops onavastglitteringweb. Brightbeadsoflight emergeandlosethemselvesagain. Everywhere

man-marksglowandtwinkledistantly. Buildings, bridges,palaces,monuments,thoroughfares, eachilluminatedinawarmgolden

light. Light. Ineverywindowlight. Rectangles, squares,rowuponrow,cutintothedarkness. Agiantbeehivehummingwithitspromise.

Waking,Iamweakandsick. Theothersstand inclusters,awkward,atadistance,consult likedoctors,nodtheirheads.Theyknowthesymptoms

Andleavemealoneatlastwithmybracelet.

alone in thedark -nessat theend oftheworld (hearingthe branchesshake inthenightwind outside)towards earlymorning lookingdown(into thecoldvoid)atthe street-lampstillburning (havingfritteredaway ourinheritedstrength withoutparsimony) livingoninanempty crumblingred-brickterrace (circaeighteeneighty-eight)

onthetopfloorofadecayed houseinChelsea(alltheother floorsvacatedinthenearly two-and-a-halfyearssincewemovedin) whydoIfeelhistoryatlast catchingupwithus(orisitus

catchingupatlastwithhistory)the VictoriaandAlbertMuseum isfloodlitatnightagainstablacksky

clearlyvisiblefromthenowcurtainless backwindowofthelivingroominwhichwe sit(bythefire)aroundthemealtable

(returnedfromtheatreorconcertoropera) tired(havingmountedtheeighty-sevensteps) butgratefultobehomeanddry(eatingdinner)

and happy now as angels on the head of a pin we(thefourofusstilltogether)lingeron anddiscusstheevening(inadesultory kindofway)thebighouse(silent)surroundingus

itsVictorianandEdwardianghosts listeningoutsideinthedarkpassageways (passingbackandforthasourconversation

fallsandrises)thendisappearingin thenight(whereineveryhumanvoice mustbelost)thelongnightofhistory

andIamhauntedbyavision deeperthanthisnight(theV.andA. havingjustswitchedoff)avisionof ourownbriefhistoricity thefourofus(onthetopfloor now)withnowheretogobutout intothenightskyinto darknessanddeath(intothis eternityofangels) whereweshallrelive(a blindingflash)nothingsave thisdancealongtheedge

of(ahmydears)our dancealongthe(what) edgeoftheabyss know(forever aloneatthe end)onlythis lastrefuge (ourlastsanc -tuary) and(more sothan ever be -fore) be

THECHESTNUTSELLERS

1

Thechestnutsellers, earlythisyear, standguard oneverycorner; muffledinovercoats, braziersaglow, springingup overnight, fullyarmed, fromthepavement.

2 Chestnutseller!

Tellmeyourname. Yourbreathstains thesunnyair oflateOctober. Areyoumerely winter’sharbinger, ordoyoufulfil adarker, moresinisterpurpose? 3

“Whyquestionme?

Ilookatyou andhavetheeyes ofRembrandt’s eighty-threeyearold woman. Youdonotask herpaintedsurface why. Inthequiet ofthegallery youacceptwhatIam.”

Chestnutseller! Shuffling byyourbrazier; awaiting thenextcustomer withhungryeyes. Yourchestnuts emit onlytheghost oftheirwinterfragrance.

5 “Lookclosely! Look! Theembers glowlikehellfire. Thechestnuts blackenandsplit. Ineachfissure, floury,sweet, seeShelley’sbrain exposedupon thatmemorablebeach.”

6

Chestnutseller! Bodiesburn andcrack,skulls contain,perhaps, onlythekernels ofdeadthoughts. Yetcannibals devourthebrain, hopingtogain thedeadman’squalities.

“Lookagain! Look! Askyourself:can anyfugitivethought leapheavenward fromthechestnut’s deadwhiteflesh? Thehammer-blows demolishingitsfrail, protectiveshell,did AnyofJoeOrtonremain?”

8

Chestnutseller! Musttheskullcrack eitherfromGod’sheat orLove’shammer? Mustwesquander deadcells tooblivion,offer thespiritIncarnate foratransient, emptyglory?

9

“Enough! Knowevenofhell thereisnocertainty. Thechestnutsareready. Lettheflavour oftheirwarmflesh, likeChrist’sBody inyourmouth, bepartofyouforever. Come! Buy! Eat!”

JEWISH CHRISTIANDIALOGUE

MICHAEL:

Thethingyougoysholdontowithsuchpride! Thatinchorsoofskinweshedatbirth, ornotlongafter,tokeepinGod’sgoodbooks.

CHARLES: InGod’sgoodbooks!

MICHAEL:

That’sright. Weholdthesethings self-evident. Apig’sunclean. Aman mustnotgrowup,hispenissheathedinskin.

CHARLES:

Andourancestorssheathedtheirpricksingold. Sowhat. Wegrowoutofthesethings. YouJews holdontoyourtraditionsfortraditions sake.

MICHAEL: Traditionssake,myarse.

CHARLES: Youdo.youdo.

MICHAEL:

AndallyoufineoldRomanCatholicsdon’t, Isuppose.

KEATSDYING

Admittedly dying cannotbe verypleasantstill asuddenshock witheyes wideinsurprise preferable tothese interminable Romedaysnocomfort save mycomforting ofSevern.

IfIcould believe inHeavenbutno, itisbetterso, coughing theseredroses onthepillow.

OCTAVEOFTHENATIVITY

Inthebeginning HehunginHerwomb ripeasapendantfruit.

AndtheSpiritofGod movedsilentlyover thefaceofthewaters. Enmeshedinhumanity, droppedintheredness ofthestablefloor, therewasnoreturning: thebloodycordsevered, thelabyrinthleft.

Ah!tobestrongagain. Toflashinthevoid. Tochooseandbefree.

ButtheyvandalisedHim: weakasakitten, removingHisforeskin.

Anooseofspiltblood, thisredtributary, loopsdowntotheearthnow; convergingalready, thetorrentsofdeath thatwillmeetwhereHewrithes.

Atthecruciformdelta HisMotherisstanding, Asad-facedMadonna, hieratic,rewinding theskeinofbrightblood likeaballofredstring.

COCKTAILHOUR

Thesmoke-grey glasscocktail-shaker isshatterednow pastrepair.

Fifteenyears insecure tea-chestdarkness itrested safeamongspiders. Usedonce almostdaily, redolentofgin andvermouth; butthatwasin anothercountry, beforethelong darkhiatus. Sixmonths inourcosy newhometranslated carefully,put onashelf outofharm’swaytwicemore tobebroughtout, tostand frostedwithice atthefestal dinner-tabletwicemore tomarkoff

thepassing oftheyears. Nowsplintered jaggedsides curveup intonothingness, trace theunbrokenshape: acrumbling perimeter ofroofless half-demolishedwalls thatstilldefines aruinedbuilding once containinglife. Civilisations riseandfall. Loveisfragile. Weareallglass.

CANCERPATIENT

Thetelevision documentaryfilm willbehere longafterheisgone. Heisscarcelymorethanaboy yethaggard,unshaven, (hisfacecontorted withapain thatwillcease onlywhenheceases) doesnotmind thisrecordofsuffering being .q33hissoleposterity; doesnotmind thewatchersathome (eveninsome unimaginablefuture whereheisnot) seeingthetears springtohiseyes ashistumorouslegs areprobedandtested; doesnotevenmind theimpassivelens, depthless astheEyeofGod: mindsthough tocupbothhands overhiscrotch, claspingthesheets,

holdingthislast vestigial scrapofmodesty (theinsignificant exposure ofacommonmanhood) tobe ofanimportance withhislife.

Whileathome wesmile,involuntarily perhaps,ofasudden glimpsing onlywhatisours; evenasweglimpse (inhiseyes suddendepthlessness) theultimate exposure whichwillbeours yet.

TOBEN: ATTHEWINTERSOLSTICE 1989

Theshortestdayisgone. Tonightthelongestnight. Thingscircleinmybrain: Onlythepenwon’twrite.

Wewalkedthroughwinterstreets inLondonyesterday andsawourselvesretreat tobookshop,gallery, hopingtofind,Iguess, athreadtoleadushome, outofthelabyrinth ofchance,whereartalone, orverse,orwhatyouwill, orderstheuniverse: Onlythepenwon’twrite.

Ishould,Iknow,ifFreud wasright,resentyou,Ben, resentatleastyouryouth, thefactthatImustwain asyoumustwax,resent thephasesofthemoon’s evergrowingcrescent lightingthislongestnight, resentthat,inyourprime, tellingofhowyouwrite, shouldinevitably remindmeofatime suchthingscameeasily. Butno,Ben.

Thebright,new, twenty-firstcentury isyours: Myhopeforyou: Towrest,somehow,fromthe chaosofexistence, something.......

ButhowcanIbegin tosayjustwhatImean nowthatthepenwon’twrite.

Theremustbesomethingelse ‘beyondallthisfiddle.’ ThuswroteMarianneMoore, whoneverceasedtoscribble.

Thepenwon’twrite,andyet countingthesyllables inthefruitlessdark, theconsonantsandvowels stillcomfort;aswemake thesehieroglyphicsigns acrosstheemptypage, ourevilstardeclines inimpotenceandrage.

Andsowestillgoon.

Theoysterdoesnotform Pearlsforfutureages Knowsonlygritandpain Whichnothingelseassuages.

IsthiswhatStendhalmeant by‘Tothehappyfew’: Beethoven,dying,deaf: theanguishofLekeu; andpoormadsadvanGogh, abletopaint,notlive; andMilton,oldandblind, Keatsyoung,somuchtogive. ItseemsGodisnotkind toartists,inaway, yetthroughthemletsusfind thepast,alive,today:

Wedonot,whenwelook atMichelangelo, saythattheworkwasdone fivehundredyearsago, butrather,aswelook, seewiththoseseeingeyes, meetacrosscenturies; as,rivalinhistime toLeonardo,he nowtreadstheskywithhim

ThatbrightblueFlorencesky. Enough. Iversify merelytomakeaverse. Thereisnorivalry Contemporaneous thegenerationsdance.

YetLeonardoasked: “Wasanythingeverdone?” Thereare,Iamafraid, noeasyanswers,Ben.

Afifteenyearoldboy isshotinBucharest, andIthinkofyou,Ben, ofhowyourlifeisblessed bypeace,prosperity, ofhowfatechoosesone toprosper,onetodie, andthatonethoughtalone darkensthisdarkestday.

LAULTIMACÉNA

Irememberhardlyatall. Iremember,ofcourse,theBreadandWine, theTransubstantiation: Hemadesurewerememberedthat. Butofthemealitself,oddlyenough, Icanrememberalmostnothing. Therewasfish,mostprobably, meat,nodoubt. Butthese Idonotrecall. Afterthemeal,though, inthegarden,justbeforeweslept, onethingsticksinmymind whichnooneelsesawfittorecord: ThecheeseandbreadHeaskedustosharewithHim, beforethelongordeal, anofferIquiteharshlydeclined, having,asIthenthought,other moreimportantthingstohand. John, ofcourse,joinedHim;couldrefuse OurLordnothing. Asdidtheothers. Ialonestoodaloof,thinkingfood nofitsubjectforatimelikethis, withgreateventsimminent. Icanstillrecall Hislook,Hisacceptanceofmyrefusal, knowingnowmypettinessandspite partofHispreparation,makingsmoothapath forthegreaterbetrayaltocome.

FORGUY

Torackandruin hisdreamsallcome thestateandcrown withhimhavedone hisbowelsunwound hisvitalsgone hismanhood’semblem takendown thepeoplewarned thetraitorhung astraw-stuffedclown atoncebecome araggedicon oftheSon tohisFather’shome safereturned

5-November

ASHANDSNOW

Thechildren’svoicesfadeawaybehindme. Silenceconfirmsthis. Myfootstepsecho onthepath. Myfeetfolloweachother likeslightlydisobedientchildren.

Mysoulisdisobedienttoo,blooms unexpectedlybetweenrocks,putsforth greentendrils. Honeysucklesoonwillsend itssicklyodouroutintotheworld.

Strangethisworld. Anotherratherperhaps. Butinanotherwewouldfindthesnow. Wehadanotherherenotlongago; Aworldofsnowwherefootstepscrossed,recrossed,

followedeachotherdisobediently Wedonotneedacrossofashtotellus thatwearedust. Childrenconfirmthis. Snowconfirmsit. Myechoingfootstepstoo.

Aflurryonthegrassandheisgone. Amomentearlier,later,andthegreen wouldhaveseemedundisturbed. Notragicaction disturbsitnow. Eventhebirdsreturn,

afteramoment'sstrangesilence,tofeed wheretheeventoccurred,acceptingitall nonchalantly,theirpointedbeaksjabbing, searchingalongthegrassyswardforworms.

WhycanInotaccept? Thissunnypeace astagefortragicaction,seemsallwrong. Ionmywaytothesupermarket tobuythemeattoeattokeepalive.

MyblackestfearsconfirmedItravelon, cultivatingstillastupidhope,whilehe aglimpseofpredatorybeak,brownfeathers, soarssquawkingaboveterrifiedshrillcries.

CHANGINGATSCHOOL

Thelittlechapwasquiteerect underhisshirt-tails;abully, withhissharpeye,didnotneglect toraghimunmercifully:

“Hey,lookatStewart’s,everyone! Haveyoueverseenonelikehis!” Theotherboys,easilyeggedon toobscenity,jeeredatthis.

Hefelthisfacegrowscarlet,hot, felthisballsbecometightandscared. Hetriedtohidehimself,couldnot; theypluckedathisshirt-tailsandstared.

Hisclothesweresnatched,ashoe,asock, hispantswereflourished,hoistedhigh: Reachingup,exposinghiscock, theboysgaveawhoopandacry.

Betweentheink-staineddeskshisshorts hescamperedafter,butinvain: AboycalledPrince,aprinceatsports, caughtthem,laughing,andpassedthemon.

Themorehechased,themoreitswung andbounced,fromhisshirtprotruded; sexualshameandprideinone lefthisverysouldenuded.

“Quick! Sir’scoming!” WhenSircamein allwasquiet;hispantsreturned andquicklypulledon,coveredhim, althoughhisbulgingprickstillburned.

Andallthiswasinforty-nine, whenhewasten,orlittlemore; andyetthethingsticksinthemind ofanoldchapoffifty-four.

Hisbodywasfoundonthebeachintheearlymorning.

Gullswerecrying. Therewasonlythesoundofthesea.

Hewasnaked. Badlybeaten. Eightofhisribswerebroken.

Therewerebite-marksonthebody. Andsevereheadinjuries.

Hewastwenty-fouryearsold. Thecauseofdeathhadbeendrowning.

Hisbloodstainedjeansandboxershortswerediscoverednearby.

Therewasnoshirt. Hewasasinglemanwholivedalone.

MarytookhisbodyintoherarmslikeherSon’s.

NOTESFROMUNDERGROUND

(“ReportfromWenceslasSquare”byJiriMyš)

I am. Therefore I think. I do not think long or deeply The effort istoogreat. AndIhave other things on my mind. I have to have all my wits about me just to survive. But I do survive. ThereforeIam. Ithink.

I have been here long. I do not know how long. Time seems tohavegotawayfromme. I lose count of the days. And the years. When I was young my elders andbetterswouldsaytome: “Just you wait, Jiri, until you areourage. Thenyouwillknowthatlifeisaseriousbusiness. Then you will think like we do.” ButIhavewaited. AndIamtheirage. Andtheyarealldead. Andmy contemporaries have all grown old around me. And they all tell me that life is a serious business. But I do not know. And I do not know if I think like they do, or did. BecauseIdonotknowhow theythink.

Nothing ever changes. Everything changesaroundmebutnothingchangesreally Onlythe surface of things. All my friends andcompanions,mycontemporariesasIhavecalledthem,sayto me: “Ifyouweremarried,Jiri,likeweare,withchildrentobringup,youwouldrealisethatlifeisa serious business, you would understand the changes that are going onaroundus. Youwouldknow what a terrible world we are living in.” ButIdonotknow. AllIdoknowisthatchangeistheonly constantinlife. Thereforenothingchanges. Andtheworldhasalwaysbeenterrible.

Once I had to avoid tanks. Now I have to avoid the high heels of the ladies of the night. Pardon my reticence. Mycontemporariesallcallthemprostitutesorwhores. ButIdonotlikesuch terms. As they are ladies and they come out atnight,Icanthinkoftheminnootherway. ButIdo not think about them long or deeply. The effort is too great. And to metheirheelsareaslethalas thetracksofthetanksorthebootsofthesoldiers.

I own nothing. Only a silver coin I found one night on the cobbles near the centre of the square. I do not know why I kept it. Why I dragged it back laboriously to my home. It means nothing to me. Idonotunderstandthehieroglyphsengravedoneitherside. Idonotunderstandthe eleven planed edges. But it pleases me. My contemporaries all say: “Jiri, why keep it. It is useless. Only takes up room.” But I hold my peace. I hold mypiece. BecauseIfounditnearthe spotwherehedied.

Andbecauseitsparklesinthefirelikehiseyes.

I said I found it near the spot where he died. This isnotquiteaccurate. Hediedthreedays later inthehospital. ButItrynottothinktoolongordeeplyaboutthat. Iliketothinkhedroppedit as he ran flamingthroughthenight. Thenighthisdayhadbecome. PerhapsthatiswhyIkeepit. I do not know. There are so many imponderables. My contemporaries no doubt would all tell me: “Jiri, he could not possibly have dropped it. Yearshavepassedsincehedied. Thisisanewworld. Time has got away from you. You have lost count of the days. And theyears.” Thismaywellbe so. But still I like to think that hedroppedit. AsIwatchitsparklingsafeinmylair. Becausehow canhisdarkflameofsufferingeverbeofthepast. Howcanhisblisteringbodyevernotbenow

ButfornowIhavetohaveallmywitsaboutmejusttosurvive. Amorseloffoodwaitsnear the heel of an old man two ladies of the night are arguing over. They will soontire. Andthenmy time will havecome. Iwillscamperout,eyesalight,andbringitbackheretomynest. ThenIshall feast. Ishalleatthefleshofmyburningboy. AndIshalllive.

Icrouchbesideyourbody clutchingyourcoldhand,lettingstiffenedfingers imparttomysuppleones thecomfortdeathbrings. Yetsupineyoustilllie

inthewarmsummertwilight asyoulayonceundersnow Whydoyouthaw byyourlonghibernation thiswinterofmine? AtyoursideIcanfeel howveryeasyitis, myBelgianbrother,tosleepunderthestars feelingnothingbutahand whichpressesyourown. Doyouperhapswonder whyapoormortalcreature seekstocomfortyou,whoarebeyondcomfort? Whyheseekscomforthimself? Omydeadsoldier,myverviétoisefriend,

Bouzousleepsinhismusic asyousleepinbronze,farfromallbattlefields, andbyasleepremindsus thatitisnotveryhardjustbeingdead.

Returning in high summer to revisit the war memorial at Verviers after hearing Lekeu’s violin sonata the previous evening. -

Wewentforthinthemorning

Tofindthesecretdoor, Weclimbedthestepsandpushing

Itgavewayandstoodajar, Wetrembledatthethreshold Nordaredtoventurein, Dimfiguresmoved,abelltolled, Andcandlesburnedwithin.

Wewentforthintheafternoon

Toseekthedooragain, Wefounditasthesunwentdown Andwouldhaveenteredthen Toplumbperhapsthosemysteries Itsthicknessheldinplace, Hadnotahandwecouldnotsee Slammeditinourface.

Wewentforthintheevening

Allhopeofthedoorgone; Itstoodbeforeusopening Asofitselfalone; Afterthemorning’srigours, Theafternoon’sdespair, Thosecandles,thedimfigures, Werewaitingforusthere.

THEFEASTOFALLFOOLS

IwouldhavestayedtheRabbi’shand, SeeingHimthus,God’sonlySon, Takingthesinsofeveryone Inbleeding,mutilatedgland:

Mock-circumcised,canunderstand, Knowingthethingalreadydone, This,theunkindestcutbutone, ToleadmantothePromisedLand.

LivingHiscrudeindignity Inmyownflesh,foronewholeday, Iunderstand,donotapprove:

Concedeitwastheonlyway Toprickpridewithhumility, Imperfectmanwith perfectlove.

«The Minim’s farewell to his donkey body.»

Allofourcleverness Willpassaway

Allofouryouthfulness Leadstodecay Whatwillbeleftofus

Onthelastday Onlyourlittleness Nonecangainsay

LATOUSSAINTÀPARIS

YesterdayinParis Boulevardswerebare

Weweretherewithoutyou Althoughyouwerethere

YesterdayinParis Treesdidnotdespair Whentheleavesdeparted Birdstooktotheair

YesterdayinParis

Thedeadclaspedthehair Ofthepassingangels Whoeternalare YesterdayinParis IsTodayelsewhere

LABELLEAUBOISDORMANT

FromdeepestsleepIdreamtofyou, Garbo,thebeautifulandtrue, Notasinyouthyouoncehadbeen, Awraithenchantedtothescreen, Butasyoumighthavebeeninage, Playinguponapaintedstage Where,despitealltheyearshadclaimed, Somethingofbeautystillremained.

Surelysuchsleepingloveliness Nevercouldsinktonothingness Butmightbewokenwithakiss;

Youwithakissmightwakemetoo OutofthedreamIdreamtofyou, Garbo,thebeautifulandtrue.

HERLASTLONDONCONCERTREVISITED

Thevoice, vibrato,roseandfell, Wobbledaroundthecrowdedhall, Soundingforusthediva’sknell.

Callaswasfifty,here,today! The Suicidio heldsway, Butwefeltonlycolddismay:

LaGioconda'smonotone Hadpenetratedtothebone, Turningourgorgonheartstostone.

Nothingwasleft. Wemightaswell Escapeourselvesatinterval, Ratherthanondestructiondwell.

ThentheduetfromCarmencame; DiStefanowasmuchthesame; Allthatremainedofherthename:

Until,althoughlongcustomhad Madeitstapleoperafood, Laissez-moi passer! chilledourblood.

Andsowestayed. Themagicgrew. Weheardthetonesthatonceweknew; Onlythebeautifulandtrue;

Santuzza’sangerandherpride Werethere,althoughthevoicehaddied, Ingesturenottobedenied;

She was thatpeasantgirlbetrayed, Callas,inscarletgownarrayed, Asimple,broken-heartedmaid!

Andsoweclappedforsomethingmore, Weclappeduntilourhandsweresore, Butweweregrantednoencore;

ForCallashadsetsailtobe Apartofthatgreatmystery Herartpermittedustosee;

Callashadpassedintothenight Whichshehadsought,aswasherright, Leavingusanabodeoflight.

(24-August-2003)

Godpreparesusforeverything: Grazingthekneesoflittleboys, Losingofpets,losingoftoys, Givesusastartonsuffering.

AutumnpreparestheearthforSpring: ThesearethemeanswhichHeemploys, Thebitterfruitageofourjoys SetsinustheDistinguishedThing.

ThusHepreparedBartholomew, Sawthatateightdaysoldheknew Suchflayingascouldthenbegin;

Thebitteragonytocome Prefiguredinthattenderskin Sethimwellupformartyrdom.

THEBALLADOFCHAUS

I

Chauslayhimselfdown FullydressedintheHall, Tobeattheready ForgoodArthur’scallII

Chauswasayouth Ofnobledescent, FortoactashisSquire KingArthurhadsentIII

Longwasthejourney AndperiloustooChaustriednottosleepButwhatcouldhedo?... IV Chaus dreams that he wakes And Arthur is goneChaus follows on horse Through the night and gloomV

Chaus comes to a Chapel In a dark wood Where white sepulchres In the moonlight brood -

Chaus enters the Chapel, A Knight lies within Stretched out on a bier; A corse pale and thinVII

Two tapers flicker

In candlesticks gold, (This is the legend As I have been told) VIII

One at the head And one at the feet To honour the dead, As is right and meetIX Chaus hesitatesThe gold gleams brightChaus takes out one candleExtinguished its light! X

Grasps the gold stick With a shuddering sigh, Thrusts it down quick Between hose and thigh;

Creeps from the Chapel Among the white tombsBut there in his pathway a stranger looms.

“Have you met Arthur?” Chaus stammering asks. But the dark stranger Will not let him pass.

XII

XIII “No. I’ve met Chaus!” The stranger does grin. “A traitor and thief!” Chaus quails within.

XIV

He fingers the candlestick Pressed to his thigh; Will not give it up. “Return it or die!”

XV

Chaus holds his ground. Thestrangerreplied Withthethrustofasharpknife DeepinChaus’side...

XVI

Chauswokewithacry HewasinArthur’sHall! Hehaddreamtthewholething. Yetwhydidhecall?

XVII

Whydidhisfingers Feelstickinessslide Betweentheknife-blade Whichwasstillinhisside?

XVIII

Whydidhislife’sblood Gushoverhishand Likeawet-dream Thatnowakingcanend?

XIX

Whatwasthatdeadweight Coldonhisthigh? Arthurcamerunning, Hearinghiscry.

XX

Chauslaytheredying, Hislifeebbingfast Fromthedeepwound Wheretheknifestuckfast,

Thepreciousgoldcandlestick ClaspedinhishandArthurleantoverhim Erehislifeend, XXII CalledaConfessor, Absolvedfromhissin SmilingtoPurgatory Chaus’souldidwin, XXIII

Votivemasseshadsaid Forthatsquirefrail, Toldtheboy’sfather Themarvelloustale, XXIV

Andwithhisconsent TothechurchofSaintPaul Thecandlestickgave, Tobeseentherebyall, XXV

Thatmenmightremember Downtothisday Howdreamsaretheonetruth Whichnonecangainsay

GUYFAWKESLASTMESSAGE

(foundscribbledonascrapofpaperinhiscell)

JesusmyGodI’mthroughwiththingshere Behindthereisdarkaheadonlybrightness Whyshrinkbackfromwhatcravencowardsfear Departintonewpurityandwhiteness

TWOVILLANELLES

I

VILLANELLEFORBRIANMCCLELLEN

(February9,1993-November10,2014)

Deathcamelikeachillingstreamfromabucketofice PrefiguringhisGethsemaneatopthetrain BrianMcClellenhasbackflippedintoParadise

Whileonthedangerousedgeofthingscastingthedice KnowingDestinyhadgrantedhimhislivingname Deathcamelikeachillingstreamfromabucketofice

Byadumbratingthemomentwhenhepaidtheprice ArmsspreadoutattheDuomocrucifiedinflame BrianMcClellenhasbackflippedintoParadise

Theunexpectedclosingaroundhimlikeavice Destroyingallhehadhopedtoknowofloveandfame Deathcamelikeachillingstreamfromabucketofice

BaptisedbysuchaFireasthishewasallgrace Refinedgoldtreadingthefieryfurnacehebecame BrianMcClellenhasbackflippedintoParadise

HisglorifiedbodyChristholdsfastinHisembrace LetFacebook’stransfiguredpagestotheworldproclaim Deathcamelikeachillingstreamfromabucketofice BrianMcClellenhasbackflippedintoParadise

VILLANELLEFORARNAUDBELTRAME

(April18,1973-March24,2018)

HeisonewiththeMasteroftheUniverse OnewiththeWoundsandBloodintheblazeoftheSun Whilejewelledunicornsdrawbythegildedhearse

BychoosinginhismanhoodtoreceiveChristfirst Hewasalreadychoosingwhathewouldbecome HeisonewiththeMasteroftheUniverse

Withintheflagdrapedcoffinhehasfoundhisrest Otherscandothemundanethingshewouldhavedone Whilejewelledunicornsdrawbythegildedhearse

TheNewWineofHeavenalonecouldquenchhisthirst InvitedtotheWeddingFeasthecouldbutcome HeisonewiththeMasteroftheUniverse

Suchpurityofactionnothingcanreverse BecomingbyhischoicetheSacrificialOne Whilejewelledunicornsdrawbythegildedhearse

InsidehishollowedchesttherebeatstheHeartofChrist WithinChrist’sbeatingHearthisheartbeatshavebegun HeisonewiththeMasteroftheUniverse Whilejewelledunicornsdrawbythegildedhearse