H e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s b e r g
N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i v e s E d i t i o n
Note to a suicide
Neruda saw happiness at the rim of a wineglass, love
In bullet-laced violins (but I am paraphrasing)
Oh, his women are still bread doubling up at breasts
To be loved by one who would never end up sliced on tracks!
See Venice in the winter-flooding, when the sea licks
Pink marble steps, white chairs swimming in their chains
Outside the restaurant where a song burning in the chest
Of the piano makes you forget your feet soaked in the Adriatic!
And here in your Oxford, the daffodils didn’t care about you:
Volcanically they spilled over grass and crocuses,
Swans fight with the geese over their bit of the pond
Drawing a clock on the face of the water, past the vernal equinox
I am sorry you have become only the devastating noise of that day.
There is nothing between you and me other than the cross
Between your death and my continuing life: the tracks were washed
I gave my statement to the Police, I did my stranger’s duty.
[Originally published in NHS 2006, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs06/Bugen.htm.]