11/29/2016 Two poems by j. lewisdeath as a naked woman came to me in an hour of despair said she would be my escort home fee paid in full, no tip required she pulled my hand to a breast the color of aged ivory cold, silky, and smooth not the pale, languid white of vampires' faces or the bloodless dainty bosoms of medieval portraits i was unmoved she lifted my gaze to her eyes not deep, dark pools of poet-lore but lively, sparkling emeralds as though she had just blown in from columbia, zambia or brazil fresh from taking her fill of broken-backed miners i did not blink she brushed her lips across mine smiled to show the seductive contrast of pearls against rubies spoke softly, sweetly in my terrified ears come into death let me be your first and last desire i forgot to breathe, briefly but i am old, and thoughtful no longer the fire-veined youth who would have leaped at the chance no, i simply whispered back you've got the wrong number i'm waiting for the ancient one black cloak, sharpened scythe no face to speak of that's the only death i care to follow chicago symphony the way he talked i was sure we were going to the symphony center where all the great music happens from the time he picked me up it was non-stop chatter about majors, minors, sevenths, and ninths first string, second string beautifully orchestrated plays pitches, slides, rests tags, short stops, runs, practice paying off in winning scores he went on about hits first, second, and third (the standard chord inversions) the whole thing coming home and i was really excited for an evening of music but there was a catch and i finally caught on as we pulled into the parking lot of wrigley field Bio: j.lewis is an internationally published poet, musician, and nurse practitioner. His poetry and music reflect the complexity of human interactions, sometimes drawing inspiration from his experience in healthcare. When he is not otherwise occupied, he is often on a kayak, exploring and photographing the waterways near his home in California.
Mary McCarthy
11/30/2016 04:10:26 am
Excellent! Life, and death, so full of disappointments!! You do a great twist on the death as lover idea, and the baseball poem is a true delight! Comments are closed.
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