for Edwin Honig

Mysterious day of perpetual evening.
Old men are following the pendulum
& making out their wills.     Unweary children
laugh in dusky light     set leafboats floating

An old Horatian aristocrat
paces the dull docks in Costaguana,
his voice grown tremulous.     A red bandanna
drifts in the harbor (relic of the coup d'état).

I hear you, old man     measuring your steps
your will & testament are mine as well.
A phantom with a black silk parasol
crossed our two swords     cancelled our debts

beneath a palm leaf     made of whispering
that cuts to blood     & sutures everything

Henry Gould | Island Road 16
Contents | Mudlark No.6