At Venus’s Funeral (after Botticelli’s Birth of Venus)

Vaguely faced like a vandal at large,

Her ghost remembers now lovelinesses.

Variously crazed as though in a festival,

Her host reconnoiters lonelinesses.

She enters my thoughts, unabashedly,

Half-naked to her bonelessness,

And I accept her unashamedly,

Scuddy under shower carelessness.

“D’you remember the days when you’d undress me?”

“I remember now, but those were nights.”

“Do you miss me at all, do you miss me?”

“I remember always, you and our fights.”

“When will I see you again in the flesh?”

“Perhaps when I die. Don’t expect a blush.”

“Goodbye now, my love, see you later.”

“Perhaps today, in a wrecked elevator.”

Then, she leaves me, unashamedly boneless.

Hold fast to that now, the barefaced carelessness.

Vaguely unfazed like a vandal at large

I reignite her ghost, miss its isolation.

Vainly dazed, well-dressed in a regal funeral,

I fumble her locket, see a scallop’s decorum.

May 16, 2007 - August 28, 2009