Saturday, December 31, 2011

A poem from last year

Ink, Water, Metal, Hamlet

Stephanie Upton


You Ophelia

My Ophelia

You weren't meant to be so pretty

Standing there walking into a madness

Into a madness like bleeding ink

Into a lake which has spread out before you

Pulled from murky plastic tubes

I let the black ripples move

I let them seep through the shoreline where you walk

You walk like a stalk of papyrus

My Ophelia thin as a reed


Madness warms you

Madness heats you through the gray fiber of a thin slip

A thin gray slip that could be the underwear under a nuns habit

A small strip of lace on your tense leg is all that shows your heat


You're thin as a cat tail Ophelia

And the cat tails beside you are ragged strokes of rust

The same burnt umber forms the swarm of gnats

That fell from a broken pen

To circle your mad head


You're face is six lines set at angles

The madness you clutch in both fists is toxic lilies

And the lily venom looks out from your angled eyes

Through your dark hair

Toward the surface of a lake murky with rust.

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