February 03, 2010

Hush fond youth

You are a baby stripped naked,
whimpering on a double bed
in the shadows of the intimate
western towers ahead.

Your clocks are set by Dali’s time,
boundless, blinking 88:88s,
blinding your writhing body
as the date dribbles away.

Hush fond youth, let the lullaby
of infancy stretch your limbs
let your language bloom,
your beautiful body, tall, slim.

And in your adolescence I will peel
your carcass from the sheets,
that merciless mattress scent
that sweaty midnight reek.

In drunken tantrums you swipe,
vomit up teeth, milk and books,
etch scornful slurs into my arms
scars that will forever stain my looks.

Hush fond youth, dance like you did
sing in that high key, sing for me
in photographs and video cassettes,
in a dizzying trance of eternity.

But you just sleep, fitfully
beneath a blanket, a mere child,
warm but bewildered when awoken
by a future you with a smile.



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