mercredi 26 janvier 2011


there's been enough gold
for one lifetime
and enough blood too
poverty shall haunt me
bending her long diatribes
into the hollows of my ears
like the ghost of a wind
launching the moon
into a cold pale gloaming

the cupboard is empty
and deep inside a
gnawing beetle is cutting
through my room
bringing down the house
onto the dirt cellar
with its smell of cider
and formadehyde
and bitter mushrooms

i do not want the spring
to come upon this land
i want a dirge for everyone
who died here
who spent his finger flesh
in orchard and field
who buried her children
and burnt her furniture
and fed cornmeal to chickens

poverty my long lost
take me down where
the workhorse grazes
i want to lie on the hay
and remember it all
i want to eat potatoes
and fall asleep beneath
soundless stars

nothing can hold me
hearty and hale
when everyone i loved
has left this place
only poverty shall have me now
my shirt sullied and rent
with dirt on my face and
worms and beetles
my fairweather friends

and in my hands
a silver spoon the
last one in the drawer
to dig a pit
that's five by two
to better fit a
blind man's daughter
who dwelled with him
for fifty odd years or more

now she lies in the earth
and sheds no tears
nor listens for the push
of the starting buds
it's over and done
she has had enough
the whistling teakettles
and the lily bells that grow
between the corn rows

written by Edgar Allan Poe/ animated and directed by Aaron Quinn/ narrated by Basil Soper

2 commentaires:

Mary Stebbins Taitt a dit…

lovely words and photo!!!!!

enudelman a dit…

Wow Laura, I really like this poem; perhaps more than any I've ready by you... it pulls the reader down the page effortless with the imagery and then turns unexpectedly into what surely is THE DIRGE. Very evocative and sonorous poem. Best, Ed