History of Pleasure
I walked by myself to the market
past ruins with broken
bodies of stone, where even
a fragment of a man could undo me.
I bought herbs wrapped in paper.
Light shone through the glass of our apartment.
You had been showering,
the smell of mint invaded the room, your hair was wet.
from A Hundred Lovers
I Know What I Love
It comes from the earth.
It is green with deceit.
Sometimes what I love
Shows up at three
In the morning and
Rushes in to turn me
Upside down. Some-
Times what I love just
Doesn’t show up at all.
It can hurt me if it
Means to…because
That’s what in love
Means. What I love
Understands itself
As properly scarce.
It knows I can’t need
What I don’t go without.
Some nights I hold
My breath. I turn as in
Go bad. When I die
A man or a woman will
Clean up the mess
A body makes. They’ll
Talk about gas prices
And the current drought
As they prepare the blue-
Black cadaver that still,
As the dead do, groans:
I wanted what anyone
With an ear wants—
To be touched and
Touched by a presence
That has no hands.
from The Tradition
live in the layers 