Eshleman's Homage to Césaire
AIME CESAIRE OUT
Facing the tidal wall of world revolution roaring with evaporation
Humankind does not change, we only break more stolid
Sinister dove with its sprig of belladonna
Humankind on the shore whipped by the bony foam of the Milky Way
What’s our secret? We adore violence like a jaguar drunk on rusted nails
Orgastic potent killers / impotent decent people
The mother table loaded with bliss at the head of which eyeless Death
Starvation for the child born on an autumnal leaf
Ink caterpillar stymied before the chrysalis of graves
Waterspout of the inseparable interlocking of matter with its spiritual grist
Skeletal trumpet through which coils the lamprey labia of your natal elation.
Clayton Eshleman
I like you blog. It’s on my milk run. But Eshleman’s poem is about as far away from a true praise poem as you can get. The last line is a real howler.