deactivated1453429768Dalantz
2 years ago500+ Views
Rimbaud: A Silent Hotel
In a sense,
It was just a momentary
Sense of pride that tore open my lips,
Allowing the undiminished
Pursuer to present himself at the throne.
It was the moment of fury,
A nightmare of a sort, but my need
Was glory and a passion of terror.
A scandal clad in all the robes
Of dignity in shame.
"Come forward!" he shouted
As the rain came up
Against the walls.
Erotic rain on this age old house.
Dripping over his beard...
And It was green, the rain was.
Absinthe on the tongue.
Facedown contemplation
Of the falling rain
Keeps the thunder at bay,
I've held to this before,
And I cry in bitterness,
Clouds carry more raindrops
Than my eyes hold tears!
Leave the door open when you leave,
I need everyone to be certain
Of the decadence of my youth!
Be sure to close
The curtains though,
It is dark outside
And it was there that I sought
The resurrection of an unloved crown.
And there it was also that
I held the door in a desperate bid
for a split seconds eye contact
With the flighty beloved
Of my forlorn childhood.
Rest now assured,
Her image vanished
With the gulls that hung
Their feathers on the fortunes
Of the barbarous
Witnesses of the empty lake.
Now you see
Why the curtains are purple.
Why the empire kept
Its ancient hold on the mirror.
The room itself is awash with light,
But from whence it emerges is impossible.
Drink only the rainwater now,
Lest the rust that paints my miserable
Walls be tempted to avenge me.
-Aaron Lantz
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