THE OTHER HALF OF HER
It was a beautiful evening
Neptune slingshots to another world
should seven in the womb
be made earthlings outside the
passage to carry down faint
signals and solar system answers
when I last visited the
contessa amid dust storm evidence
I had warned my wife
of lake basins and riverbed
landings earth creatures mixing hominids
I can make fate good
and bad don’t hold back
your light I saw you
walking through like they thought
I was mad explaining it
or something as we arrived
through the smoulder fifty percent
of that is mine when
she sat under the tree
what fancy stockings so much
studied and findings applied like
aspects of the entwined serpent
now I feel so sick
THERE COMES AN END TO EVERY GOOD DEED
On the hills
of summit visible
where the relentless
women hate all
aristocrats after
we’d spent some
time with them
after the marriage
an enormous expression
of personality
and the sense
he’d been around
after the split
she and my
son Jim
were around the
same age she
produced from under
her dress a
crest with
country roots or
something some of
the angels sided
with her qualities
and profits
shall encompass the
city and the
walls collapse a
most tragic lament
with jumping
as I walked
he really looked
bad to the
island or the
Red Sea
but the modern
man must dominate
then submit and
she remains undaunted
in France
I CAN’T MAKE YOU WRONG NO MORE
I can still recall her
nightmares and the sack
that she wore, when she
was then drinking and
we danced in Baltimore.
When I’m out with many
women, things are not
that clear. I never had it
like this before. Something
always keeps me here.
She came here for a
reason. I don’t care
what she said. I need to
see some people,
and bring it to a head
But I’ve got other
things you still need
to do. And I find
things so hard that I’ve
got to give it to you.
And out in the darkness
when there’s not
much to share, I still rouse
up new dissenters
lighter than the air.
THE NECESSITY TO ALWAYS LIVE IMMORTALLY
I’m going away I’ve
found life again I’m sick
of language everyone
has found history
and textbooks lying
around all kinds of people
on the ground while drunken
in the entry or fighting in
the war we always live
immortally you made that
plain and clear and even
though I’m thinking this side
of the sphere we never get
what we want until it’s
late in the year one day
you’re here one day you’re
there it all vanishes like music and
footprints on the shore that
wasn’t my intention when I came
in through the door your mask
shows nothing and your face
shows nothing more
This blog was the successor to the poetry section of the now no longer existing The Argotist Online. This blog is also no longer active, and is now just an archive.
Poem by Stephen Bett
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THE STUDIO The vista which then opened was one I never could’ve anticipated in the Nineties—the PAFA campus was set as a series of jeweled b...
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EQUATIONS #25 When I converse with N on the phone, in about my thirteenth year, our heads open up together, and we create an imaginative lan...
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EQUATIONS #26 Audrey, as a tangent to N, took the idea, not of broadcasting gossip but of sharing and disseminating literature, as a fait ac...