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Eurydice

How I hung there
Twisting in the wind
Tongue swollen and blackening
In my mouth--The Hanged Man.

What words of solace, of adoration
Could a dead man utter
That would not have fallen
Like maggots from my lips?

It was all I could do
Not to kiss you, then and there,
Abandoning all pretense of restraint
Or a corpse's disinterest.

Rain splattering my windshield,
A mockery of my pain.
Jesus, how I wept--Stupid, vain tears
So richly deserving Nature's scorn.

All I could think of
Was how I stood there, suspended,
Wanting nothing more than to kiss you
Goodbye.

Yet even as my heart
Fills my mouth with ashes
I hear a ghostly footfall
Behind me.

If I turned to look
What would I find
Following me
From Hades' cold kingdom?

Blood staining my bedclothes,
A mockery of fertility.
Jesus, how I bled--to awaken weaker
Eyes swollen, head bursting, emptier than ever.

And all I could think of
Was how I trudged away from perdition
Wanting nothing more than to kiss you
Hello.



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