A Burden Lifted

Autumnal inspiration (and the influence of Acquainted With the Night) continues:

Burden: 2 a.m.

Why hast thou set me as a mark against
thee, so that I am a burden to myself? —Job 7:20

The bottle stands
empty on the table, sucked dry
an hour ago. The room spins
less at the floor, so there
he lies, eyes slitted
and pained by the luminous
dial of the electric clock:
Every second throbs and hums.
His tongue lies thick in his mouth,
tasting of something dead.
Dust lies upon dust under
the bed, and strings of dust
hang from the slats.
For now I shall sleep in the dust;
and thou shalt seek me in the morning,
but I shall not be.

September 14, 2006

I also wanted to share this quotation from the great American poet James Wright:

"[H.R.] Hays [translator of South American poets] has drawn our attention to such men as Neruda and Vallejo. To do so is a moral act as well as an artistic one. It is a way of forcing American readers and writers to consider that there is a difficult nobility in poetry which commands our whole spiritual attention, and that this nobility, by its very existence, is a rebuke to the triviality, the nit-picking, the politicking, and the giggling pseudo-surrealism that threaten to waste and destroy our hope for a serious life."

My thanks to my dear friend Naomi for providing this.