Sunday, October 11, 2020

Louise Glück / The Edge


Alex Colville


By Louise Glück

Louise Glück / El límite

Time and again, time and again I tie

My heart to that headboard

While my quilted cries

Harden against his hand. He’s bored-

I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets

In water? Over Mother’s lace I watch him drive into the gored

Roasts, deal slivers in his mercy… I can feel his thights

Against me for the children’s sakes. Reward?

Mornings, crippled with this house,

I see him toast his toast and test

His coffee,  hedgingly. The waste’s my breakfast.

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