{"id":12207,"date":"2018-06-15T20:58:58","date_gmt":"2018-06-15T18:58:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=12207"},"modified":"2018-06-15T20:58:58","modified_gmt":"2018-06-15T18:58:58","slug":"poems-by-robert-beveridge-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=12207","title":{"rendered":"poems by Robert Beveridge"},"content":{"rendered":"

Antigone<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She sleeps<\/p>\n

the sleep of the content<\/p>\n

wrapped in a lover’s embrace<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

while I blind and cold<\/p>\n

can do nothing<\/p>\n

but state the scene<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

my frail hands<\/p>\n

wrapped around this birchwood cane<\/p>\n

ache to touch the youth<\/p>\n

the almost febrile glow<\/p>\n

they have forgotten<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

The Last Thing She Ever Said<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The roses once were white.<\/p>\n

Toll of accelerated decay<\/p>\n

has flecked them with the red<\/p>\n

of her dress. At the end,<\/p>\n

I was surprised at how simple<\/p>\n

it all was: the buffet<\/p>\n

contained the proper implements,<\/p>\n

open bar did all<\/p>\n

the motivation work.<\/p>\n

The groom was hardest. By then,<\/p>\n

some shock was gone, the ushers<\/p>\n

had started to move again. She,<\/p>\n

though, was simple,<\/p>\n

passive, as though<\/p>\n

the blade were going through<\/p>\n

the top tier of the cake.<\/p>\n

Her veil, still pristine,<\/p>\n

now goes better with the flowers.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Liquor<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

sweet taste sucks<\/p>\n

breath from throat<\/p>\n

liquid from lust<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

warmth of its lone caress<\/p>\n

flames my stomach<\/p>\n

to flurries of desire<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the darkened magic<\/p>\n

of wheat-boiled grain<\/p>\n

alcohol burns<\/p>\n

smooth in my body<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Tarot<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

you have asked me again<\/p>\n

how to construct a tarot deck<\/p>\n

and so I’ll tell you<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

get some paint acrylic of course<\/p>\n

(it mixes better)<\/p>\n

and thin places, ceramic<\/p>\n

seventy-eight<\/p>\n

extras for mistakes<\/p>\n

if you feel such a need<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

find a palette<\/p>\n

that will not soak up<\/p>\n

the emollients<\/p>\n

you will add to the paint<\/p>\n

the back of your lover<\/p>\n

usually works best<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

open your wrist<\/p>\n

and pour that blood<\/p>\n

into your paint<\/p>\n

(it mutes the colors<\/p>\n

underlines their power)<\/p>\n

or if you can<\/p>\n

take a long needle<\/p>\n

and pierce your heart<\/p>\n

the gods of tarot<\/p>\n

like this blood best<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

draw on your knowledge<\/p>\n

of daily ritual<\/p>\n

nothing magical<\/p>\n

about this tarot<\/p>\n

your love and money<\/p>\n

your sickness and health<\/p>\n

your future and past<\/p>\n

your life like mine<\/p>\n

like everyone else’s<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the magic<\/p>\n

is in your blood<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Yet Another Love Poem<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It’s tea break. Half-empty<\/p>\n

bleachers glint reflections<\/p>\n

into everything from bone china<\/p>\n

to styrofoam. The pitch clatters<\/p>\n

with tea services, batters<\/p>\n

and bowlers argue the merits<\/p>\n

of Darjeeling; Earl Grey<\/p>\n

is reserved for the Ashes.<\/p>\n

The day mellows into sunset.<\/p>\n

Players take their positions,<\/p>\n

ball spins, bat cracks,<\/p>\n

The game is on again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Antigone   She sleeps the sleep of the content wrapped in a lover’s embrace<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1322,77],"tags":[1324,1123,1259],"class_list":["post-12207","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-54","category-english","tag-egophobia-54","tag-english","tag-robert-beveridge"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-3aT","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12207","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12207"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12207\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12208,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12207\/revisions\/12208"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12207"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12207"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12207"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}