they said to read cavafy,
that classicist, nostalgic and horny.
or lonely. or something.
there’s a restlessness there,
echoing yours i think
it’s more a willful aimlessness,
a willingness to abandon
a train of thought, a history
filmed with dust, a longing
for something lost, something
with weight, shadowy gestures,
desire gained so rarely, and thinly.
ah, cavafy. you’re always on the edge
of saying something.
you meander amongst ruins,
burdened with longing, burdened.
tell me what you want.
is it really only beautiful bodies?
i am unconvinced. is it beauty?
are you being coy?
or merely guarded?
lovely wanderer, let’s stop playing games.
let me take your hand.
let us walk together.
1 comment:
Ed, I've finally gotten a moment to check out your new poems. I really like this Cavafy one, especially your direct question to him, "What is it you want?" I've felt similarly reading (a little) of his work. I see some great choices in your line breaks here (that's probably been the abiding lesson thus far from Cairn's class). And a nice ending sentiment. I like knowing some of the origins of this one. :)
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