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August Poem

Mike Silverton


Gustav Fabergé is lost in thought with a half-dozen eggs,
“Weeping urchins hanging off eaves, smelling like something.”

Weeping urchins hanging off eaves, smelling like something

O my swan, how, absent handles, shall we proceed?
(How, too, absent directions?)
The boy stops at the door.
“Gentle door, open, O please do!
No no! I eat so little!”

And the sun, especially yellow that late afternoon,
fulfills a deathbed wish.

Asterisks, fungi, a hint of flailing snails
a voice whisp’ing “Pillage!”

Expressionless mammals standing in snow,
who speaks for them?

That would be me, also recalling unfortunate trysts.
One finds me on tenterhooks,
muttering a leave-taking including bagged edibles.

Creole malaise requires participation.

Sensing no further despondencies, I decommission
and decompose.


"August Poem" is one of nine poems by Mike Silverton (under the heading "Ten Acuities") in the print edition of Clam No. 11.



mike_silverton

Mike Silverton