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1 | --- | ||
2 | title: Swansong | ||
3 | subtitle: alternate version | ||
4 | genre: verse | ||
5 | |||
6 | project: | ||
7 | title: Autocento of the breakfast table | ||
8 | css: autocento | ||
9 | ... | ||
10 | |||
11 | This poem is dry like chapped lips. \ | ||
12 | It is hard as teeth---hear the tapping? \ | ||
13 | It is the swan song of beauty, as all \ | ||
14 | swan songs are. Reading it, you are \ | ||
15 | puzzled, perhaps a little repulsed. \ | ||
16 | Swans do not have teeth, nor do they sing. \ | ||
17 | A honking over the cliff is all \ | ||
18 | they can do, and that they do \ | ||
19 | badly. You don't know where I'm going. \ | ||
20 | You want to tell me, You are not you. \ | ||
21 | You are the air the swan walks on. \ | ||
22 | You are the fringe of the curtain \ | ||
23 | that separates me from you. I say \ | ||
24 | that you are no longer the temple, \ | ||
25 | that you have been through fire \ | ||
26 | and are now less than ash. You are \ | ||
27 | the subtraction of yourself from \ | ||
28 | the world, the air without a swan. \ | ||
29 | Together, we are each other. You \ | ||
30 | and I have both nothing and everything \ | ||
31 | at once, we own the world and nothing in it. | ||