Sunday, November 27, 2011

Books
By Sara King

Don't say you'd mourn my passing.
You a writer, and a liar.
Writers are the worst of liars---
their audience has no face,
so they don't have to smile,
don't have to weep,
don't even pretend to love.


I know you will forget me
while I sleep with the worms.
You have forgotten me already
and I am breathing still,
here in the wet leaves and wind,
you, hiding somewhere in the city,
behind Dostoyevsky and cognac.


If only I were a book,
then maybe you would read my body---
run your eyes right to left
over my flesh,
bury your face
in the pages of my breasts.


But I am only a bookmark---
a place to rest
when you are reluctantly tangled,
you,
a voracious reader,
me,
a vicarious lover. 

8 comments:

Ed Pilolla said...

wow, this is so original and clever. and sensual.

glad you had a good thanksgiving too. you have such a unique place here, where you are so comfortable in yourself that you post the work of others more than your own, though you do add a dash of your own special stock like seasoning. and it works so well together. i

Ben Ditty said...

Ditto, Ed! Love this idea of vicarious love.

Marion said...

Ain't it just a great poem, Ed? God, I love it when I find a poem that just vibrates with life. I'm glad you enjoyed it. xo

Ben, it's a cool thought, no? I appreciate you so much. xo

erin said...

i wonder on how we all consume one another for pleasure. i think it must be a real effort to make it otherwise, to put value in endurance, to treat us all as valuable texts.

your new home is very beautiful, marion. i hope your holiday was full and ripe.

xo
erin

Marion said...

Erin, I don't know, I just don't know. My books are my best friends, my most faithful, loving and giving friends. They save me every single day. They hold me to this life...words, glue and paper keep my heart beating. Ain't that sad? xo

Wine and Words said...

What a blod poem. And true. Writers can be the most adept liars. Audiences with no face. So true. More and more we make our relationships faceless. Text, phone, e-mail, blog. I miss having coffee with you, lunch, watching stupid shows on TV with cats in our laps. We need to live closer. You'd have much less time for books with me around :)

Marion said...

I miss you, too, Annie. Yep, if you lived closer we'd probably need bail money. Snort, snort, snicker. xo

Green Monkey said...

very clever!!!! really enjoyed it