Giiving the Lie
GIVING THE LIE
No one is ever finally, anything
Not the genus, nor the father
Even if the songs they sell do not ring
Out anymore with the heart of their maker -
No one is finally silent, like a dumb waiter,
No one at last imperilled into prayer;
There is always a moment when now becomes later,
Thoughts sliding down the railing like a golden hair
There is no actual promise in the nude barracks
(Which existed only to seal an impossible nightmare),
Something to mark the dread of the lost warlocks
Gone like the flame of non-existence with a blast of air.
No one is finally a liar, in the deepest calumny
Is buried a truth that only wished to be.
FROM IN MEMORY OF HER, 2004, 2008
Copyright © Rosemarie Rowley | Year Posted 2016
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