Adored Absentee
During your respite,
I've done my best not to succumb
to the full-body furry of alcohol's savagery.
Still, on occasion, I must admit,
at times when my mind's eye is in need of rest,
I toast with friends and family.
Day and night, I envisage your face, your waist,
your gossamer flesh, pliant and curvaceous form,
and my eyes are forced to retreat at the twinge of
silver tipped rose-thorns.
In gatherings of company, I tend to
block out the utterances of others, too
busy searching my mental recordings,
trying to recreate and replay your voice of
fallen rainwater and rose quartz
and my ears are eventually
driven toward madness by the mournful
chime of crying cicadas.
Other times,
My mind departs like a crazed, carnal raptor,
desperate wings, blind eyes,
following the flowing scent of rose petal attar,
in search of your tender intellectual meat,
poetic eye balls and well read stomach
I drink in your absence
yet, sadly, I have found
vodka has lost its charm,
whiskey no longer possesses
the allure of romance,
beer leaves a bitter, insatiable
bore, soused in brine, drowning
in the bottom of my stomach.
Oh this malignant affection,
tumors of cotton and lead in
the bowels of my being.
Curculios devouring the plum
of my heart. I feel light as air,
heavy as ore, soaring and plummeting, at once,
Amorous pangs coil me during these times,
Oh these serpentine feelings, they slither
down my intestinal track, nesting and
gnawing in the depths of my core.
They spawn with time and multiply
their festering brood. They feed of
feverish blood and submerged boughs
[...] Read more
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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