Mondo Inteirinho

It’s beautiful this way, isn’t it?
Look at how cobalt swirls define

the snapped green outlines of continents,
the red of territories where cities crackle

with intermittent light or gunfire. Line up
the edges of the clear acrylic cage so they

resemble markings on a turtle shell. Set it
on the shelf, or on an antique rolltop desk

inlaid with gold from melted teeth. Ransoms
have been paid for loveliness less than this.

We’ve brought war to countless flea-ridden
villages harboring dark wells of oil, beaches

mottled with the dust of diamonds. In return,
see all the trade that journeys back to us

in ochre and blue container vessels, the bills
of lading penned in more than a dozen foreign

tongues. The diners in the inner room
are cataloguing artifacts before their

disappearance: smoked foam of fungi
gathered in thunderstorms, sleek

bodies of eels entombed in blocks
of marbled tofu, ortolans drowned

in Armagnac… For let it not be said
our love is shabby, or lacking for display.

~ (after Peter Eudenbach)

 

In response to Via Negativa: The Inward Park.

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