I could almost see ahead of me
a night of drink, perhaps love
How many like me have come home
cold and dead from such nights
from such love
I could nearly see ahead of me, stars,
bleak horizon and the jagged lost line
of inkblack mountain
From that darkness emerged
dark fountains, flowers found,
the faces of women,
so seemingly, some so beautiful
some shadows, no sound
sensuous but already blossomed
a night of drink, perhaps love
How many like me have come home
cold and dead from such nights
from such love
I could nearly see ahead of me, stars,
bleak horizon and the jagged lost line
of inkblack mountain
From that darkness emerged
dark fountains, flowers found,
the faces of women,
so seemingly, some so beautiful
some shadows, no sound
sensuous but already blossomed
faded, and failed
in that nameless instant,
and now us
You and I in this unpieced place
where unknown
we fall into the eye of the unnamed
After all this night, death, half-funny
another daze, demised.
sculpture not carved of stone
but of want, and blame
anonymous death, half-funny,
half lame.
