Failed to let go this morning,
clenching your committed expression
to the classics with my
fingertips, mocking the
postmodern alike.
Yes, Claude is as you say, what I say
from a distance, an artist amongst composers.
I would have suggested Tchaikovsky
given the chance.
Akhmatova lived with Punin for 10 years
after her husband passed, and she was
happiest during the war.
We have a similar enemy.
Russia 1910
3 years before it began to freeze,
Akhamtova and Gumilev are wed
by the same state
that would ruin them.
Russia 1912
Akhamtova discusses the evening.
Russia,
where art is bombarded in the foxholes
regardless of meter.
I once decided not to fly there,
and it has haunted me in
a different sense.
Flash back to the present,
a magic cold steel Cold War bullet
strikes me between the 3rd and 4th ribs,
striking me off balance like a
barn door opening one way eternally,
opening my damn quintessence for you
and I without consequence of your
indecisive spurning,
conflicting envy and selflessness within me.
Knyazev shot himself on the stairway of
Sudeikina’s,
so I assume Blok won her affections.
Knyazev was always the romantic type.
We met in a valley
in the dead of summer.
It has been days since.
It will always be days since.
