<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We used to meet up once a week
for sex & wine & ham &cheese.
Now she’s gone, so she must speak
through shards of poems she shared, like these:
Tsvetaeva’s writhing frozen birch
while meeting Don Juan behind the church;
Gumilev’s loping giraffe beside
Lake Chad, the amazing shapes on its hide;
Mandelstam’s swinging on a rope with board
in the fevered memory of his own backyard;
Akhmatava\u2019s lover in an ill-starred
tryst, temporary though still adored.
Without the pieces she so lovingly glossed
these marvels would be lost. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
We used to meet up once a weekfor sex & wine & ham &cheese. Now she’s gone, so she must speakthrough shards of poems she shared, like these: Tsvetaeva’s writhing frozen birch while meeting Don Juan behind the church;Gumilev’s loping giraffe beside Lake Chad, the amazing shapes on its hide;Mandelstam’s swinging on a rope with boardin the fevered memory … <\/p>\n