5.02 / February 2010

HOTEL MERCURE

listen to this poem

I could say you loom
And you would.   Could reach
My hand to touch you-

Lucid swimmer, slick
Whipper snapping through
My window’s dark.   Forgive me:

Could almost reach.   Moon,
Remember that hotel-
In-the-round, spinning

Us through the Paris night?   You
Used it as your mirror, every hall
Curving out of sight, into

Geometry’s continuous now.   How
Did they slice our room?   Pie-
Eyed, I recall

Only the bed, too small
For any one.     Cheap wine, loaf, a living
Up to an idea.   Surely

We were happy?   In time,
In time.   And you?
You haven’t aged a bit.


5.02 / February 2010

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