Wanda Waldera © 2014 All Rights Reserved


I know a man shaved his face
into a Francis Bacon for love,
held the mirror sideways to record
his passage into the next life,
where a woman is dying in his arms,
her last words feathered like psalms,
always someone he carries in their dying,
the letter that arrived too late, the sleeping pills
not intended but finally gone and done the trick,
the semaphores of affection turned into
vampire bats of woe, the moon’s cold lumens
bearing forth the ocean’s unfathomable solace,
where even whales are led to shores too shallow
like angels fallen from great heights.

José Luis Gutiérrez
Copyright © 2014  

José Luis Gutiérrez is a San Francisco-based poet. His work has appeared in the Cortland Review, Mutanabbi Street Starts Here, Eratio, Jet Fuel, Margie, Juked, Otis Nebula, and Scythe, among others.

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