THE SECRET VISITOR
sometimes when the reading room is
almost deserted the lamps blink out
their green shades go black to mark
their green shades go black to mark
the hour when the Secret Visitor comes
she can be glimpsed flitting from shadow
to shadow behind the trellised grillwork
of one of the upper galleries and it's then
I think of that long necklace of hers
the one she'd strung from poplar to ash
the night the trees around the library
bled out the last of their sap and died
the spiders and wood lice here are deists
the Secret Visitor claims to know each
by name as she bites into a blood orange
and the juice dribbles down her chin
I rushed out of the library determined to
head for Paris to live and paint imaginary
portraits of her on the Hill of Martyrs
she can be glimpsed flitting from shadow
to shadow behind the trellised grillwork
of one of the upper galleries and it's then
I think of that long necklace of hers
the one she'd strung from poplar to ash
the night the trees around the library
bled out the last of their sap and died
the spiders and wood lice here are deists
the Secret Visitor claims to know each
by name as she bites into a blood orange
and the juice dribbles down her chin
I rushed out of the library determined to
head for Paris to live and paint imaginary
portraits of her on the Hill of Martyrs
later that night at the ristorante
I spotted the first man to circumnavigate
the globe without a change of underwear
dining sad and alone at the next table
I spotted the first man to circumnavigate
the globe without a change of underwear
dining sad and alone at the next table
on Strega and eggplant Parmesan
we cannot deny the Secret Visitor
is the last of the sainted flesh eaters
that her breathing carries in it
the distant rush of an ocean
the almond trees are already in bloom
and a hunger an ineffable hunger
is worming secretly through our guts
ERIC BASSO, USA
we cannot deny the Secret Visitor
is the last of the sainted flesh eaters
that her breathing carries in it
the distant rush of an ocean
the almond trees are already in bloom
and a hunger an ineffable hunger
is worming secretly through our guts
ERIC BASSO, USA
April 30, 2013
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