Tuesday, April 19, 2011

the insouciance of youth

because she saw the old man
die
she invited me to her bed
wife of the dead man's
stepson
whispering when our naked bodies
met
that she considered herself a good
Catholic
when later her orgasms had run their
course to the exclusion of my own
younger body's brief ecstasy
because she was older but not
said she
that much older
all things considered
(none specified)
she did not want to run the risk of
pregnancy
(but did for she could not know that
 I was willing to forego gratification)
her whispered monologue afterwards
touched upon a celebration of
life
my silence covered the opposing argument
making the occasion more of a celebration of
death
not
that I greatly cared
(for the old man or her)

the insouciance of youth dimly
remembered
now


--Levi Wagenmaker (1944 - ) is a retired journalist, living in the Netherlands for most of the year, and in France for some of it, with two bitches, one of whom is a dog, and lately, with another young canine male.  Enamoured life-long with language (and languages), for reasons immaterial to the act he writes poetry in English only, even if he could most likely manage it in a few other tongues.  His poems have been published on line more than in print, and Google will tell the curious what, where, and when.

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