ARTHUR RIMBAUD
(1854-1891)

Touch me

with your ephemeral spirit
of an exiled acceptance,

jostle me, Arthur

with your travel passport

under Africa's blazing sun,
grant me words

that move me with wonder
to share your secret language,
gently forgive me

from your open shirtsleeves
with no self-doubt

between your hands,
Remember me, Rimbaud

when my words are printed

on city graffiti walls,

whisper to us
across rented rooms

in the rainbow underground,

heal me

from your wounds

in the house of a friend.