BRONZE
An Exercise in Style
(Li Shang-Yin)
1
….our reflections
flaked, like
wraiths,
through the revolving doors….
………………………………………………
inside, where
the ether bloomed
on its tall icy stems, your
sleeves crushed:
cerulean.
twice,
now, into
nowhere, travelled
on the vaporous back of
our voices. The
waves
froze.
forever ended. the
darts, off your gold bow-ring,
flew backwards.
2
‘for so
little,’ the myth. Prince O piled
the embroidered quilts.
their weights
rolled over, and
opened….
was,
were, lay
soundless
under the shallow gray lighting
of each other’s
lids.
3
a clatter of
shell
against crystal; a dragon, its
wings
riding salient
on a starched wrist….
…………………………………………..
….is world,
what’s
turning again into
voices, waves, the pronged
troughs
of its thick, suspended brocades….
a
rasp
of combs: no
holding….the
heart
shall fly, hooded, the
breath
breaking on its shivering scales….
4
half-
turned, in a
froth
of shadows….mirrored, already,
over the
matched
majolica dogs.
An Exercise in Style
(Li Shang-Yin)
1
….our reflections
flaked, like
wraiths,
through the revolving doors….
………………………………………………
inside, where
the ether bloomed
on its tall icy stems, your
sleeves crushed:
cerulean.
twice,
now, into
nowhere, travelled
on the vaporous back of
our voices. The
waves
froze.
forever ended. the
darts, off your gold bow-ring,
flew backwards.
2
‘for so
little,’ the myth. Prince O piled
the embroidered quilts.
their weights
rolled over, and
opened….
was,
were, lay
soundless
under the shallow gray lighting
of each other’s
lids.
3
a clatter of
shell
against crystal; a dragon, its
wings
riding salient
on a starched wrist….
…………………………………………..
….is world,
what’s
turning again into
voices, waves, the pronged
troughs
of its thick, suspended brocades….
a
rasp
of combs: no
holding….the
heart
shall fly, hooded, the
breath
breaking on its shivering scales….
4
half-
turned, in a
froth
of shadows….mirrored, already,
over the
matched
majolica dogs.
c 1982 The estate of Gustaf Sobin