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Anatomical Song
American Poetry Review, The, Jul/Aug 1996 by Thorek, Kerstin
I can't be had in furnished rooms,
you say
Put me into an unfurnished one then!
Cosier than this
it's never going to be
however much furniture we drag together here
Reality can't allow itself to be disguised
Outside it incessantly is broken apart
crunch after crunch
like your sweet Rye-King sandwiches
The entrails well forth in the sticky honey. the alphabet
open in every direction
like continent after continent
word witness after word witness
down to lost time
when letter upon letter
were literally nailed into metal and stone
Can you in the shiny crucible of the computer
gather up the thinking elements
that move even in the chaos of the human galaxy?
Toward the East we outline Alpha
toward the West, an Omega
By manipulating them we touch
part of the whole and control ourselves
even though our tongues are on the edge of convulsion.
Copyright World Poetry, Incorporated Jul/Aug 1996
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved
