What Real Trembling is For
by allen mahan
Thursday, December 19, 2002
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“You can live a lie until you die...”
— John Ono Lennon
the djenouns of deepest Borneo,
since antiquity, send their mothers
to “pleasure valley” for one-year
before decapping their still blinking skulls;
they hurry the heads home to be cured
by moon, the souls time
to furor for the mantle.
He catch you after dark running
through the park this is where you’ll go:
He’ll cleanse your blood-soaked soul,
show you afterglow;
He carry you home to cure your
heart-swept stone, alone
with your wee- worried bones.
(I speed at night, your dear, sweet
Daphnia doesn’t believe in magik.
She’s too predaceous, too predictable
to be primordial.When the truth hits
her weak bones
she’ll know what real trembling is for.
She’ll embrace herself in the mirror
as if this one life is now over
to stop her chattering teeth from
breaking and not catch me hovering
above, picking fragments from the ceiling;
my broken finger clenched in a glove.
It’s not like this hasn’t happened
a dozen times before, my love!
Trust the invisibles; they
Put on a show for free: (his sprit
haunts her day and nighttime thoughts.)
There’s you, there’s me, one-thousand
imps behung by trees.
The gods got all the time in the woods.
You want for answers from Apollo? the
Oracle of Delphi? Or cartomancy?
An allopthy? Any old fool can
throw cards for you!
“Opposites are healed by opposites!”
Hippocrates heals hisself with mirth and
great caution: Here’s how:
the djenouns of deepest Borneo . . .