19.8.09

Frank Lima and Soft Language

Poem from Amor

There are no bones in poverty and
pain. You advise me to write poems of
insanity, poems of a face eternally hidden

by laughter. Spain's greatest architect
slept with you a quarter
of a century ago. Now I am your youngest poet, and

fill your bed with ink. In the other world, in
other words, I threw away my shoes looking
for you on the throat of a

flower. The eyes of the brolacchan lack
the great gentleness of paradise. And I live in the vague
terror you will call and offer me a summer song and coffee.

-Frank Lima, "Inventory: New and Selected Poems" (Hard Press, 1997)

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