| Jul. 17th, 2008 @ 02:11 pm Underdone And Overdue |
|---|
Lover, Let's Meet In This Sinking Library
According to an urban myth, the architect who
designed the main library at Indiana University
forgot to factor in the weight of all the books,
and, consequently, the library is slowing sinking
into the ground.
Lover, I detected your existence indirectly,
like wind, by ripples you made in the flag
of my days. Here and there would be a book
out of place, the corner of it's spine tilted
outward: a salient, strange nipple. This library
is being retracted like a claw. And early on
we lost electricity. The sun was then an elevator
rising upward, and bang, one day, this library
was dark. The exits were the first things to go.
By candlelight, I read Moses and Hawking and Wallace
Stevens, each man having left behind his advice
like a handful of confetti inside a shipwrecked
time capsule. Lover, we have scattered our love notes
in every crotch that this library's got. Let's plan
a tryst, for when the candles burn out. I can't
wait to meet you, and I'm glad that we're both trapped
here. But while there's still light, I need to learn, to see
what kind of ballerina my mind is. But when there is no
light or food, then we won't need our books or our clothes,
or our anonymity. What we will lack in poetry we can
make up for with sex, and what the darkness takes
it gives back slowly. The future, lover, is a trusty
disease.
Nicholas Moore |
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