stormy demons blew dust into my eyes
the telephone will say nothing
having lied for me, I am nothing
even to you, and what is left behind -
Virginia creeper, a worm, a squealing viper
from your lips to the wall of ivy?
I, kneeling before a pulsing vein
of snake meat? vagrant guttural
explosions of sighs and consonants?
I grew deaf, I only heard: you are alone
I remember the creeper winding: don’t grieve
I will combine them with blooming Pompeii
I saw her painted eye sockets
but I did not hear
Balnea vina Venus
Corrumpunt corpora nostra
Autem vitam renovant
Balnea vina Venus*
desert of the heavens, heaven of the inferno
upward – downward sinking swings!
from those who gather the final tribute
I’ve hidden the cask, though I know:
in vino veritas et mors, o ghost
*Inscription on thermae (baths) at Pompeii “Baths, wine and sex bring decay to our bodies; but baths, wine and sex make up life.”