I couldn’t stop for a moment to
appreciate the white simplicity of marble -
What beautiful hands, so inhuman,
So painful to sculpt -
A hammer into your eyelids:
From unseeing -
To black clean holes for mirrors.
And then the statues carved in bronze -
Such huge feet and faces, intrepidly distorted
Perversion, attractive, committing suicide
On a bridge to the receptive river.
When two black plaits of Styx
And claustrophobic Nile
Find their way into sand,
No precise place for grave -
Either to be discovered by two sticks
Or lash out against the houses
Tornado-like in hum-drum pity.
Sand is the greatest peace treaty -
Better that the Code of Hammurabi:
A bloody blister on my foot
Into the gentle substance
- I walk away -
And leave a vine already growing.