s l a v e s
R O N A L D P A L M E R
"The mistake one makes is to speak to people."
--Samuel Beckett (First Love)
Let's embrace like Michelangelo's mimetic Slaves. Lean
Delicately your self-consciously gorgeous face: trust
Your earless head against my unfinished: chest.
My thoughts are merely pathos: abandoned arms: forever half-polished.
My inaccurate twin. Sing me silently: before you thrust
Toward me: your alien mind's: master-fully carved dream.
Release one derelict thought: swimming hopeful: flawlessly clean:
Like an opalescent fish: quivering holographic gills opening between us.
This omen of speech: will be our perpetual guest.
My reticent: block:
My student of self-involvement: be my nervous mirror: of stellar dust:
My impeccably perverted: rock.
© crossconnect 1995-2000
published in association with the
university of pennsylvania's
kelly writers house