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