Tuesday, November 4, 2008

THERE IS SOMETHING INTRACTABLE IN ME




Keeping me from sentimental verse
About your birth and growth and milestones.
Love like this is best left mute, though I curse
Each impulse to crush clich├ęs like bones
Broken in a vise. Can’t say what’s worse:



Diving in headfirst or standing shin-deep
On a shoal. Never been much of a swimmer.
Vigils, my son, I’ve held, to see you sleep
In dusk-dim light and I’ve felt the dimmer
Numbness in me melt. I’ve tried to keep



Watch from a safe ascetic distance,
Emotion held in check—a trick that’s killed
Love in the past. The slant consonance
Linking us will stall me, until I’ve fulfilled,
Stubbornly, the demands of these constraints.







3 comments:

Ian LeTourneau said...

nice. and I like the acrostic

Gillian Wallace said...

Lovely. I'm just reading Nicholson Baker's The Anthologist so I'm appreciating your work on this more than I normally would be able to. But more importantly, the poem itself is lovely. Quiet but very powerful.

Zachariah Wells said...

Thanks, Gillian. I really enjoyed Baker's novel.