Later Poems Selected and New

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Later Poems Selected and New Page 26

by Adrienne Rich


  have been choked,

  attaches itself to the structure

  of the old class like a destructive gangrene . . .

  it takes on morbid forms of mysticism,

  sensualism, moral indifference,

  physical and psychic pathological depravations . . .

  The old structure does not contain and is unable

  to satisfy the new needs . . .”

  • • •

  —Trying to hold an inner focus while hoarse laughter

  ricochets from the guardroom—

  • • •

  —liquefaction is a word I might use for how I would take you—

  • • •

  —the daunted river finally

  undammed?—

  [prevent this mind]

  2005

  The University Reopens as the Floods Recede

  Should blue air in its purity let you disdain

  the stink of artificial pine

  the gaunt architecture

  of cheap political solutions

  if there are philosophies to argue

  the moment when you would

  or wouldn’t spring to shield

  a friend’s body or jump

  into scummed waters after

  a stranger caught submerging

  or walk off to your parked

  car your sandwich your possible orange

  if theories rage or dance

  about this if in the event any

  can be sure who did

  or did not act on principle or impulse

  and what’s most virtuous

  can we not be nodding smiling

  taking down notes like this

  and of all places

  in a place like this

  I’ll work with you on this bad matter I can

  but won’t give you the time of day

  if you think it’s hypothetical

  2006

  Draft #2006

  i

  Suppose we came back as ghosts asking the unasked questions.

  (What were you there for? Why did you walk out? What

  would have made you stay? Why wouldn’t you listen?)

  —Couldn’t you show us what you meant, can’t we get it right

  this time? Can’t you put it another way?—

  (You were looking for openings where they’d been walled up—)

  —But you were supposed to be our teacher—

  (One-armed, I was trying to get you, one by one, out of that

  cellar. It wasn’t enough)

  ii

  Dreamfaces blurring horrorlands: border of poetry.

  Ebb tide sucks out clinging rockpool creatures, no swimming

  back into sleep.

  Clockface says too early, body prideful and humble shambles

  into another day, reclaiming itself piecemeal in private ritual

  acts.

  Reassembling the anagram scattered nightly, rebuilding daily

  the sand city.

  iii

  What’s concrete for me: from there I cast out further.

  But need to be there. On the stone causeway. Baffled and

  obstinate.

  Eyes probing the dusk. Foot-slippage possible.

  iv

  Sleeping that time at the philosopher’s house. Not lovers,

  friends from the past.

  Music the vertex of our triangle. Bach our hypotenuse

  strung between philosophy and poetry.

  Sun loosening fog on the hillside, cantata spun on the

  turntable: Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern.

  Feeling again, in our mid-forties, the old contrapuntal ten-

  sion between our natures. The future as if still open, like

  when we were classmates.

  He’d met Heidegger in the Black Forest, corresponded

  with Foucault. We talked about Wittgenstein.

  I was on my way to meet the one who said Philosophers have

  interpreted the world: the point is to change it.

  v

  On a street known for beautiful shops she buys a piece of

  antique Japanese silk, a white porcelain egg.

  Had abandoned her child, later went after him, found the

  child had run away.

  Hurt and angry, joined a group to chant through the pain.

  They said, you must love yourself, give yourself gifts.

  Whatever eases you someone says, lets you forgive yourself,

  let go.

  America, someone says.

  Orphaning, orphaned here, don’t even know it.

  vi

  Silent limousines meet jets descending over the Rockies.

  Steam rooms, pure thick towels, vases of tuberose and jas-

  mine, old vintages await the après-skiers.

  Rooms of mahogany and leather, conversations open in

  international code. Thighs and buttocks to open later by

  arrangement.

  Out of sight, out of mind, she solitary wrestles a huge

  duvet, resheathes heavy tasselled bolsters. Bed after bed.

  Nights, in her room, ices strained arms. Rests her legs.

  Elsewhere, in Andhra Pradesh, another farmer swallows

  pesticide.

  vii

  Condemned, a clinic coughs up its detritus.

  Emergency exit, gurneys lined double, mercy draining

  down exhausted tubes.

  Drills and cranes clearing way for the new premises.

  As if I already stood at their unglazed windows, eyeing the

  distressed site through skeletal angles.

  Tenant already of the disensoulment projects.

  Had thought I deserved nothing better than these stark

  towers named for conglomerates?—a line of credit, a give-

  away?

  viii

  They asked me, is this time worse than another.

  I said, for whom?

  Wanted to show them something. While I wrote on the

  chalkboard they drifted out. I turned back to an empty room.

  Maybe I couldn’t write fast enough. Maybe it was too soon.

  ix

  The sheer mass of the thing, its thereness, stuns thought.

  Since it exists, it must have existed. Will exist. It says so

  here.

  Excruciating contempt for love. For the strained fibre of

  common affections, mutual assistance

  sifted up from landfill, closed tunnels, drought-sheared

  riverbeds, street beds named in old census books, choked

  under the expressway.

  Teachers bricolating scattered schools of trust. Rootlets

  watered by fugitives.

  Contraband packets, hummed messages. Dreams of the

  descendants, surfacing.

  Hand reaching for its like exposes a scarred wrist.

  Numerals. A bracelet of rust.

  In a desert observatory, under plaster dust, smashed lenses

  left by the bombardments,

  star maps crackle, unscrolling.

  2006

  Telephone Ringing in the Labyrinth

  i

  You who can be silent in twelve languages

  trying to crease again in paling light

  the map you unfurled that morning if

  you in your rearview mirror sighted me

  rinsing a green glass bowl

  by midsummer nightsun in, say, Reykjavík

  if at that moment my hand slipped

  and that bowl cracked to pieces

  and one piece stared at me like a gibbous moon

  if its convex reflection caught you walking

  the slurried highway shoulder after the car broke down

  if such refractions matter

  ii

  Well, I’ve held on peninsula

  to continent, climber

  to rockface

  Sensual peninsula att
ached so stroked

  by the tides’ pensive and moody hands

  Scaler into thin air

  seen from below as weed or lichen

  improvidently fastened

  a mat of hair webbed in a bush

  A bush ignited then

  consumed

  Violent lithography

  smolder’s legacy on a boulder traced

  iii

  Image erupts from image

  atlas from vagrancy

  articulation from mammal howl

  strangeness from repetition

  even this default location

  surveyed again one more poem

  one more Troy or Tyre or burning tire

  seared eyeball genitals

  charred cradle

  but a different turn working

  this passage of the labyrinth

  as laboratory

  I’d have entered, searched before

  but that ball of thread that clew

  offering an exit choice was no gift at all

  iv

  I found you by design or

  was it your design

  or: we were drawn, we drew

  Midway in this delicate

  negotiation telephone rings

  (Don’t stop! . . . they’ll call again . . .)

  Offstage the fabulous creature scrapes and shuffles

  we breathe its heavy dander

  I don’t care how, if it dies this is not the myth

  No ex/interior: compressed

  between my throat

  and yours, hilarious oxygen

  And, for the record, each did sign

  our true names on the register

  at the mouth of this hotel

  v

  I would have wanted to say it

  without falling back

  on words Desired not

  you so much as your life,

  your prevailing Not for me

  but for furtherance how

  you would move

  on the horizon You, the person, you

  the particle fierce and furthering

  2006

  Tonight No Poetry

  Will Serve

  * * *

  Waiting for Rain, for Music

  Burn me some music Send my roots rain I’m swept

  dry from inside Hard winds rack my core

  A struggle at the roots of the mind Whoever said

  it would go on and on like this

  Straphanger swaying inside a runaway car

  palming a notebook scribbled in

  contraband calligraphy against the war

  poetry wages against itself

  • • •

  Once under a shed’s eaves

  thunder drumming membrane of afternoon

  electric scissors slitting the air

  thick drops spattering few and far

  we could smell it then a long way off

  But where’s the rain coming to soak this soil

  • • •

  Burn me some music There’s a tune

  “Neglect of Sorrow”

  I’ve heard it hummed or strummed

  my whole life long

  in many a corridor

  waiting for tomorrow

  long after tomorrow

  should’ve come

  on many an ear it should have fallen

  but the bands were playing so loud

  2007

  Reading the Iliad (As If) for the First Time

  Lurid, garish, gash

  rended creature struggles to rise, to

  run with dripping belly

  Blood making everything more real

  pounds in the spearthruster’s arm as in

  the gunman’s neck the offhand

  moment—Now!—before he

  takes the bastards out

  • • •

  Splendor in black and ochre on a grecian urn

  Beauty as truth

  The sea as background

  stricken with black long-oared ships

  on shore chariots shields greaved muscled legs

  horses rearing Beauty! flesh before gangrene

  • • •

  Mind-shifting gods rush back and forth Delusion

  a daughter seized by the hair swung out to bewilder men

  Everything here is conflictual and is called man’s fate

  • • •

  Ugly glory: open-eyed wounds

  feed enormous flies

  Hoofs slicken on bloodglaze

  Horses turn away their heads

  weeping equine tears

  Beauty?

  a wall with names of the fallen

  from both sides passionate objectivity

  2009

  Tonight No Poetry Will Serve

  Saw you walking barefoot

  taking a long look

  at the new moon’s eyelid

  later spread

  sleep-fallen, naked in your dark hair

  asleep but not oblivious

  of the unslept unsleeping

  elsewhere

  Tonight I think

  no poetry

  will serve

  Syntax of rendition:

  verb pilots the plane

  adverb modifies action

  verb force-feeds noun

  submerges the subject

  noun is choking

  verb disgraced goes on doing

  now diagram the sentence

  2007

  Scenes of Negotiation

  Z: I hated that job but You’d have taken it too if you’d had a family

  Y: Pretty filthy and dangerous though wasn’t it?

  Z: Those years, one bad move, you were down on your knees begging for work

  Zz: If you’d had a family! Who’d you think we were, just people standing around?

  Yy: Filthy and dangerous like the streets I worked before you ever met me?

  Zz: Those years you never looked at any of us. Staring into your own eyelids. Like you saw a liqht there. Can you see me now?

  • • •

  Hired guards shove metal barriers through plate glass, then prod the first line of protestors in through the fanged opening. Video and cellphone cameras devouring it all. Sucked in and blurted worldwide: “Peace” Rally Turns Violent

  Protestors, a mixed bunch, end up in different holding cells where they won’t see each other again

  Being or doing: you’re taken in for either, or both. Who you were born as, what or who you chose or became. Facing moral disorder head-on, some for the first time, on behalf of others. Delusion of inalienable rights. Others who’ve known the score all along

  Some bailed-out go back to the scene. Some go home to sleep. Others, it’s months in solitary mouthing dialogues with nobody. Imagining social presence. Fending off, getting ready for the social absence called death

  • • •

  This isn’t much more than a shed on two-by-fours over the water. Uncaulked. Someone’s romantic hideaway. We’ve been here awhile, like it well enough. The tide retches over rocks below. Wind coming up now. We liked it better when the others were still here. They went off in different directions. Patrol boats gathered some in, we saw the lights and heard the megaphones. Tomorrow I’ll take the raggedy path up to the road, walk into town, buy a stamp and mail this. Town is a mini-mart, church, oyster-bar-dance-hall, fishing access, roadside cabins. Weekenders, locals, we can blend in. They couldn’t so well. We were trying to stay with the one thing most people agree on. They said there was no such one thing without everything else, you couldn’t make it so simple

  Have books, tapes here, and this typewriter voice telling you what I’m telling you in the language we used to share. Everyone still sends love

  • • •

  There are no illusions at this table, she said to me

  Room up under the roof. Men and women, a resistance cell ? I thought. Reaching hungrily for trays of folded bread, rice with lentils, brown jugs of wate
r and pale beer. Joking across the table along with alertness, a kind of close mutual attention. One or two picking on small stringed instruments taken down from a wall

  I by many decades the oldest person there. However I was there

  Meal finished, dishes rinsed under a tap, we climbed down a kind of stair-ladder to the floor below. There were camouflage-patterned outfits packed in cartons; each person shook out and put on a pair of pants and a shirt, still creased from the packing. They wore them like work clothes. Packed underneath were weapons

  Thick silverblack hair, eyes seriously alive, hue from some ancient kiln. The rest of them are in profile; that face of hers I see full focus

  One by one they went out through a dim doorway to meet whoever they’d been expecting. I write it down from memory. Couldn’t find the house later yet

  —No illusions at this table. Spoken from her time back into mine. I’m the dreaming ghost, guest, waitress, watcher, wanting the words to be true.

  Whatever the weapons may come to mean

  2009

  From Sickbed Shores

  From shores of sickness: skin of the globe stretches and snakes

  out and in room sound of the universe bearing

  undulant wavelengths to an exhausted ear

  (sick body in a sick country: can it get well?

  what is it anyway to exist as

  matter to

  matter?)

  All, all is remote from here: yachts carelessly veering

  tanker’s beak plunging into the strut of the bridge

  slicked encircling waters

  wired wrists jerked-back heads

  gagged mouths flooded lungs

  All, all remote and near

  Wavelengths—

  whose? mine, theirs, ours even

  yours who haven’t yet put in a word?

  • • •

  So remoteness glazes sickened skin affliction of distance so

  strangely, easily, clinging like webs spread overnight

  by creatures vanished

  before we caught them at work

  So: to bear this state, this caul which could be hell’s

  airborne anaesthetic, exemption from feeling or

  hell’s pure and required definition:

  —surrender

  to un-belonging, being-for-itself-alone, runged

  behind white curtains in an emergency cubicle, taking care of its own

  condition

  • • •

  All is matter, of course, matter-of-course You could have taken

  courses in matter all along attending instead of cutting the class

 

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