Friday, November 18, 2011

Implosions, by Adrienne Rich.

This poem totally blew me away when I came across is on Poetic Medicine the other day. That said, Rich's stuff always blows me away - I've never connected to a poet so much, or found any work quite so powerful as hers. It's strange, in that to most people she's the lesbian feminist one, but I am neither a lesbian nor an ardent feminist, but by god, I love her work. She's hardcore, dammit.


The world's
not wanton
only wild and wavering

I wanted to choose words that even you
would have to be changed by

Take the word
of my pulse, loving and ordinary
Send out your signals, hoist
your dark scribbled flags
but take
my hand

All wars are useless to the dead

My hands are knotted in the rope
and I cannot sound the bell

My hands are frozen to the switch
and I cannot throw it

The foot is in the wheel

When it's finished and we're lying
in a stubble of blistered flowers
eyes gaping, mouths staring
dusted with crushed arterial blues

I'll have done nothing
even for you?

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