A VERLAINE DAY
(1844-1896)
The day has discovered
a bookmark on your verse
the dawn is tepid
as if under a curse
outside it rains
and you think
you need a nurse right away
or at least your mother
to look out for you
at first light
but in the wonder of life
the storm vanishes
and with it your nerves
it's only from a fright
of feeling like an outsider,
damn it all,
just lay on your back,
and write a line of poetry
forget the pain in your sacroiliac
from the heat of the morning
it's only your body of thought
as in September on the train
you had another attack;
it is to words you serve,
Paul Verlaine,
remember it was only
the nightmare
of a small bird you caught
on the tram
as you slowly recover.
(1844-1896)
The day has discovered
a bookmark on your verse
the dawn is tepid
as if under a curse
outside it rains
and you think
you need a nurse right away
or at least your mother
to look out for you
at first light
but in the wonder of life
the storm vanishes
and with it your nerves
it's only from a fright
of feeling like an outsider,
damn it all,
just lay on your back,
and write a line of poetry
forget the pain in your sacroiliac
from the heat of the morning
it's only your body of thought
as in September on the train
you had another attack;
it is to words you serve,
Paul Verlaine,
remember it was only
the nightmare
of a small bird you caught
on the tram
as you slowly recover.
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