22 August 2011

Machine for Jean Rhys by Matthea Harvey

Machine for Jean Rhys

It’s all lit up with handfuls
& eyefuls & it doesn’t want you

because that’s what you want.
Flicker, the land shrugs off

its scape, flicker, the trees fall
away. If la lumière is stoppered

in bottles what is the light
over there? What in the world

do you want in the world?
If the café had stayed,

the waiter would know.
If those eyes were

your own, you might also.

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