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La belle de nuit, la belle de jour



I remember the green place
I remember the green
I remember
I—

fascinated by glare, by glint,
the apocryphal cryptographies
of enlightenment,

my anachronistic dreams,
my "scrivener's debauch,"
interrogating the obvious
pervaders of impermanence
in the concavity of depravity,

my visits to the Kingdom of Pyrexia,
the Realm of Euphora,
and other spaces too large for love
through which echoed voices,
loud, insistent, repetitive voices
saying Nothing, Nothing, Nothing,
I'm scared,

remember the first half, devoted to learning,
the last half, to losing,

the dysterotica of abject wealth,
the capitalchemists and their droit de seigneur

if there's no way we can get it right
on the first try, why do we only get
one try?

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.