You Read It Here First

 

Privet near-far far-near truth inexorable.
The direction returns each year –
a necessary certainty: will you have any?
The space that surrounds you: waxing scent, a sigh in the air.
It cannot help that it is green – this is just the situation.
We can dance to it! The trees will not chide us.
Nothing mediocre here: exceptional really.
June’s clever clover-chains – they’ll just have to do –
No daisies today.

I will string them together, a long garland. Perhaps I’ll wear it.
Yes, the libidinous frightens, even if the instinct is pure.
It is no different from the ripening of fruit on the tree,
or the silent blossoming of flowers.
I want to make-out in the park.
Unusual for me – but I think I’ll be alright.

I imagine leaving refreshed – briskly alive –
perhaps a bit
disheveled.

Bathed in dappled shade commonality reverberates.
This is innocence to me.
Yes, the years could reverse to nothing in particular.
But this is so precise and exacting.
I like how it tastes: like apricot jam or orange-blossom honey.
I want to dip my finger in. I want to lick my lips.
I am dying for a taste.

I am replying to the spring.
Not anything I anticipated. Can’t I just wear this for a while?
It leaves me trembling.
I had to tell you about it anyway...
At least before I quit, before I drift,
and the future closes in and I am lost to it forever.
Right now, I have no hesitation, perhaps some caution.
How I love the scent of privet: I could fall in love.
You read it here first.

 

 

forthcoming in the book (for goodness' sake) new poems by sadi ranson-polizzotti

twilight times books and alyscamps press, united states / france.

for more information, please use the contact link on this site

 

back