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A Void

I struggle with the only Fact
nails in his throat on the banks of Lethe
I try to hold him under
– fill his howl with tarred nepenthe
til it sticks, & chokes & I turn back
to life.
But I do not watch it sink, the dead thing,
so it floats around again
– the stormy currents wind it back
to front me – eyes still open,
rivers kept the rictus wet
& so he lears, though dead,
& being dead he cannot die again
& I am pale of strength.
And though I’d hoped to rid myself
of all he made, melded to my mind,
all that rots is that around him
golden clothes which made his flesh
(which we are heir to) bearable.
Bare & bald with gristly glisten
he lies who does not lie, confronts me
‘cross the wetted poison of identity
& can never sink
unless he sinks with me.

19 May 07

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Take nepenthe out of line 4. It detracts from your piece and makes you start thinking Poe. This is a good piece, you just need to keep your own voice.Thanks
 — Trish77

I didn't think of Poe when I mentioned nepenthe actually, in the poem it's meant to refer to the water of Lethe, since both are classical potions of forgetfulness.  I probably did pick it up from eddy boy though, and I'll keep it since it's such a beautiful word.
 — parcrises

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