Tuesday, 19 March 2013

the quality of mercy

the strangeness of my face
as I guide her toward Czech glass light

reminds me of mercy—startling in its green degree

like a blond child
in a stale velvet dress

your need is drastic,
a ribbon slashes your good neck

a Southern belle
overturned and rung
in a heart-pink corset

all undone

everything about you ruined,
family, fortune, fame

your breasts, most of all,

failed and falling

whose telephone number
will you recall

when you can reach
no one at all?

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