fragments

one time i had a dream that i discovered an ancient manuscript. it was in a strange library. the first section of the manuscript contained recipes. the second section contained a long poem about a mythical voyage to the moon. the third section was falling apart. it had little drawings and pieces of poetry that had barely survived. here's what they said:

I
unfailingly, every week you come

to mooch red wine and gorgonzola from me.

in your pocket – never even one egg!

saturday afternoon means you’re empty handed

and ravenous.

II

you reprimand me

            like i am a nerveless mosquito.

III

he gravitates to your ineloquent yapping --

the garlands of a flustering boor.

IV

all that i can remember for three days

before your burial is: how you cooked pastries

for our french class, but forgot to sift the flour.

V

you’re engaged to be married.

only part of me is happy. my sister,

VI

that spot between the clavicles,

soft and demanding kisses.

there is a summer constellation

named lyra.

VII

but evergreen bends easily.

she carries potted marigolds to the grey

statue of the virgin

and clips a lock of brown hair.

VIII

on the night of the fireworks,

when it was so hot that you let me drip ice

down your temples into your dark hair,

IX

the aureate harp plucked with haste

X

which seemed like betrayal to you.

though, had i not made this voyage,

…

and with vines, you’d have

still been burning with odium

XI

why do I argue?

you’ve never been wrong.

cabbage is best with mustard.

labradors and cats often get along.

your expertise is unparalleled.