The RetroLounge Daily Poem Thread (Mon 5/11/2009)

[RetroLounge]

Idolatry

Death was entirely obsolete those nights
we lay down in the fields and felt the sun’s
heat coming back out of the dark earth.
There were so many stars we had to invent
new constellations. God, too. And sin.
One could discuss such things until the candles
guttered and the darkness was complete.
But if you noticed the scent rising from beneath
her shirt, the unidentifiable finch in the mimosa,
even the lean French hooligan zipping his moped
back into town, and, of course, the flighty wind
in the fig leaves--well, disbelief was not denial then,
it was life. You could be forgiven anything
merely for the slope between belly and pelvis,
or for bringing out the next bottle of wine.
And so we would lie on our backs in that glossy hay
looking up into all those stars. We never knew
what was going to happen next. We seemed so small,
and the odor of rose--even when it was the soap--
or the lacewings shuttling over the mown fields,
or that glance you just couldn't make sense of--
It was what Simone Weil called prayer.
Unconscious, but wholly sincere. The casual
crushing of an ant. Gasp into a pillow. Sunlight
in a water glass. Loneliness under the eaves. Shadows
lunging under an orange sky. We gave our lives to it.

Stephen O'Connor

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Stephen O’Connor is the author of three books: Rescue (1989), Will My Name Be Shouted Out? (1997), and Orphan Train (2001). His poetry, fiction, and essays have appeared in AGNI, Conjunctions, Poetry, The Missouri Review, New England Review, and many other places. He teaches in the MFA programs at Columbia University and Sarah Lawrence University.

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:hi:

RL

[blueraven95]

1. morning!

:hi:

[RetroLounge]

6. Good afternoon!

:hi:

RL

[Tuesday Afternoon]

2. nicely put

:donut: :hi:

[RetroLounge]

7. hey there...

:hi:

RL

[CaliforniaPeggy]

3. Yummy!

Thank you, my dear Retro!

:hi:

[RetroLounge]

8. welcome...

:hi:

RL

[Chorophyll]

4. ...

Very, very nice. And I would be remiss if I didn't mention the silver-haired hotness of the poet, of course. Hee.

:hi:

[RetroLounge]

5. Just for you, my sweet...

I'm your poetry pimp...

:9

RL

[Chorophyll]

:rofl: