Air
-for George Harrison, (1943-2001)
What can we do but break
These knots of bread together
& thank gods for their crust,
This pale dish of yellow butter? Hold our cups below cold pitchers
& pour whatever liquor we can
Manage--like air it tastes
Of iron, shared memory, blood. But who can stand to talk of mothers
& fathers--our mothers, our
Fathers? Love, a final chord
Lowers over background speakers.
Dull needles crackle at thin air. Tonight,
At least, acknowledge our silence.
If you want a chance to hear more of Doug's work, please make sure to be at our September 1st reading at Beaverdale Books, 7pm!
These knots of bread together
& thank gods for their crust,
This pale dish of yellow butter?
& pour whatever liquor we can
Manage--like air it tastes
Of iron, shared memory, blood.
& fathers--our mothers, our
Fathers? Love, a final chord
Lowers over background speakers.
At least, acknowledge our silence.
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