2 poems by margueritte
from coda
read by the poet the music of Renaissance masters,
Gregorio Allegri & Thomas Tallis


 not to dig in for history

 the world, a concrescent crucifixion
sadly scattered, pod-like; now a hole
in the rib cage to breathe through;
it is to this hole I journey; peering
into blackness pure; free of holiness;
free in the absence of the thing called God
so often belched across penitent tongues;
a breath of the air-borne virus; a gasping suck;
free too of the augur of hags and harridans;
of the augur of the ogre wrapt in his own image.
I am not negative space and never beggared;
I'm paid my own way and paved a path with the
spade of my choice; the weight of the naked
shibboleth is sometimes; more; sometimes;
weep if you must; my pillow is dry; my dream banal;
just look into my brain once; it is all that I ask;
for one to see my brain as other; then I can sleep.


Knapping Recluse

 woven tightly; without a pore
pure; impacted with a kind of
constipated ennui; at the same
time begging to be held;

this is the drift of a cock-eyed
growth that gathers here; they can
be found in tightly packed cafes;
small tables, round or rectangular;
usually needing a pack of matches
to quell the tottering lassitude;

but also at the large community
tables one finds in a Chinese
eatery; one or two looking out
though lowered lids; checking
the other's plates; clumsily
managing chopsticks;

for myself; I avoid them; though I
notice they notice me; with avaricious
scent, they smile; I refuse to budge;
I'll go it alone, thank you.


 Copyright © 2012 by Margueritte

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