8/06/2006

Two Poems by Stephan Delbos

Landscapes

Honeysuckle
Subtle
Jukebox
Rumble

Words rise like mountains from the landscape of the page.
Thunder roars through certain phrases
Whose every jagged ridge reveals
A valley pungent with the musk of earth.

Sheltered in the lean-to of my name,
Overshadowed by cliffs of sheer obsidian,
I sing the voice we give the world.

Eucalyptus
Eggplant
Platypus




*


Trying to Write a Poem Beneath the Statue of Saint Vaclav

Rain slid from holy face to horse's hoof
On streambeds oxidized by eighty-six relentless years.
I was pressed behind the statues, keeping out of wind.
Looking up, I couldn't help but see the horse's bulge
And balls and recall Nabokov's advice:
"Caress the details."

The man in red sweatpants seemed possessed:
Prostrate, praying to the statue of a king,
Scabbed hands out-cupped, catching rain, awaiting blessings.
He shivered in the steel-eyed gaze,
But remained the picture of devotion, unlike his brothers
Sprawled on benches clutching rum-filled rosaries.
Raindrops rippled puddles all around him. Finally,
He stood with crusading eyes, paraded past,
Possessed by his commission.
I stood waiting in the rain for direction,
One authoritative voice.

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