Academic journal article TriQuarterly

Allegorical Figure

Academic journal article TriQuarterly

Allegorical Figure

Article excerpt

You danced with my father, who now is crematorium smoke. Gravelly ash, houndstoothed

with bone. Yes, I remember him Danced him silly on the various wards, arms akimbo,

wires dangling and the unguents' glow, lips caked white from the meds. I've heard this all before, you say.

May I have the next dance? you say. 6 A.M. I dance you as I run the April beach,

warm enough now so the willows sprout drunks, homeless in sleeping bags, Mad Dog

already foaming their lips. "Get ya fingurs offa me" - wino X, to no one in particular.

Black lab and borzoi, full trot in the distance. Look me in the eyes while we dance you say.

The lab who tore after me last year to bestow my left calf's star-shaped scar. I like you better

now that you've stopped the pills. The Zoloft didn't suit you. The Paxill didn't match your eyes.

In California, the Unabomber's wakened, dainty gelignite valentines. And the "rescuers"

in Oklahoma will find only bodies now, the explosion one week old. …

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