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Linggo, Agosto 17, 2008

...POETS' corner

The 26-Hour Day


It is black bear o'clock
when the nightmare stalks
dormeurs like you, little
conjuring head. I will stay
here tonight, blow the dust
from your lashes, I'll lullaby bears
from your willow branch bed.
Before I knew you,
I was like you, I was loved, too,
in this same bed. It was black
bear o'clock, and with no one
beside me, the bear bit
the veins in my neck.

Sommeil, speak, I
hear you, your lisping
and lusting, your syllables
gusting, and mutterings hued.
And I will not sing
any earthly thing. I will not
tell you the country
you live in. Just stay in
your elsewhere and no one
will hear us. It's black
bear o'clock, sleep as long as you're
able. There's no one else here I
would ever let wake you.