New Matrices, all ice. Fixed here and solidly. What was that song? My grave is hiding from me. I'll go to that juniper thicket across the road. Or stay here. Or go. Or stay. A contessa. A girl on a roan horse behind the goldenrod. The barn. The whiskey shelf. Count options, false starts. And glooms of love, the lover's next-room boredom. Juliet's in Verona. Juliets are always in Verona after a few days. Or trout and grouse, wading & walking after them. Days of it. Dis. Dis. Dis. Dante called it, this actual hell, this stillness. Lasting how long? Waking is visionary. I'll awake but to sleep again, new and bitter each new time. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BRUTUS LIVES AGAIN IN BOOTH by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO A. E. HOUSMAN by MARGARET ASH TRAVELLER BY NIGHT, SELECTION by JOANNA BAILLIE URANIA; THE WOMAN IN THE MOON: DEDICATION TO HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES by WILLIAM BASSE |