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More poems by Bill KnottBill Knott | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Bill KnottBooks by Bill Knott

Lifeguard Clinging To A Steeple

Bill Knott

Why are all the survivors of the needle's eye
nude, as if their lifethread had disrobed
rather than sewn them. Sans coat-fare,
we proceed it seems only to precede;
birth to burial, are not yet here.

But when did we first start embracing
the wakes of ourselves in each other rather
than each other? As the fruit falls
to hiatus us, its bloom spoiled by last year's cores.

Or the sun whose portrait rots in our pores,
those sweatbeads blurred in closeup but clear afar--
that pointillist pap, that hybrid suicide.

The face carefully tattooed around love's wounds
does not itself look injured.

Added: 20 Feb 2002 | Last Read: 20 Jan 2018 11:40 AM | Viewed: 3422 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/2601/ | Viewed on 20 January 2018.
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