Power Politics Read online

  What is it, it does not

  move like love, it does

  not want to know, it

  does not want to stroke, unfold

  it does not even want to

  touch, it is more like

  an animal (not

  loving) a

  thing trapped, you move

  wounded, you are hurt, you hurt,

  you want to get out, you want

  to tear yourself out, I am

  the outside, I am snow and

  space, pathways, you gather

  yourself, your muscles

  clutch, you move

  into me as though I

  am (wrenching

  your way through, this is

  urgent, it is your

  life) the

  last chance for freedom

  You are the sun

  in reverse, all energy

  flows into you and is

  abolished; you refuse

  houses, you smell of

  catastrophe, I see you

  blind and one-handed, flashing

  in the dark, trees breaking

  under your feet, you demand,

  you demand

  I lie mutilated beside

  you; beneath us there are

  sirens, fires, the people run

  squealing, the city

  is crushed and gutted,

  the ends of your fingers bleed

  from 1000 murders

  Putting on my clothes

  again, retreating, closing doors

  I am amazed / I can continue

  to think, eat, anything

  How can I stop you

  Why did I create you

  Hesitations outside the door

  1

  I’m telling the wrong lies,

  they are not even useful.

  The right lies would at least

  be keys, they would open the door.

  The door is closed; the chairs,

  the tables, the steel bowl, myself

  shaping bread in the kitchen, wait

  outside it.

  2

  That was a lie also,

  I could go in if I wanted to.

  Whose house is this

  we both live in

  but neither of us owns

  How can I be expected

  to find my way around

  I could go in if I wanted to,

  that’s not the point, I don’t have time,

  I should be doing something

  other than you.

  3

  What do you want from me

  you who walk towards me over the long floor

  your arms outstretched, your heart

  luminous through the ribs

  around your head a crown

  of shining blood

  This is your castle, this is your metal door,

  these are your stairs, your

  bones, you twist all possible

  dimensions into your own

  4

  Alternate version: you advance

  through the grey streets of this house,

  the walls crumble, the dishes

  thaw, vines grow

  on the softening refrigerator

  I say, leave me

  alone, this is my winter,

  I will stay here if I choose

  You will not listen

  to resistances, you cover me

  with flags, a dark red

  season, you delete from me

  all other colours

  5

  Don’t let me do this to you,

  you are not those other people,

  you are yourself

  Take off the signatures, the false

  bodies, this love

  which does not fit you

  This is not a house, there are no doors,

  get out while it is

  open, while you still can

  6

  If we make stories for each other

  about what is in the room

  we will never have to go in.

  You say: my other wives

  are in there, they are all

  beautiful and happy, they love me, why

  disturb them

  I say: it is only

  a cupboard, my collection

  of envelopes, my painted

  eggs, my rings

  In your pockets the thin women

  hang on their hooks, dismembered

  Around my neck I wear

  the head of the beloved, pressed

  in the metal retina like a picked flower.

  7

  Should we go into it

  together / If I go into it

  with you I will never come out

  If I wait outside I can salvage

  this house or what is left

  of it, I can keep

  my candles, my dead uncles

  my restrictions

  but you will go

  alone, either

  way is loss

  Tell me what it is for

  In the room we will find nothing

  In the room we will find each other

  Lying here, everything in me

  brittle and pushing you away

  This is not something I

  wanted, I tell you

  silently, not admitting

  the truth of where

  I am, so far

  up, the sky incredible and dark

  blue, each breath

  a gift in the steep air

  How hard even the boulders

  find it to grow here

  and I don’t know how to accept

  your freedom, I don’t know

  what to do with this

  precipice, this joy

  What do you see, I ask / my voice

  absorbed by stone and outer

  space / you are asleep, you see

  what there is. Beside you

  I bend and enter

  I look up, you are standing

  on the other side of the window

  now your body

  glimmers in the dark

  room / you rise above me

  smooth, chill, stone-

  white / you smell of tunnels

  you smell of too much time

  I should have used leaves

  and silver to prevent you

  instead I summoned

  you are not a bird you do not fly

  you are not an animal you do not run

  you are not a man

  your mouth is nothingness

  where it touches me I vanish

  you descend on me like age

  you descend on me like earth

  I can’t tell you my name:

  you don’t believe I have one

  I can’t warn you this boat is falling

  you planned it that way

  You’ve never had a face

  but you know that appeals to me

  You are old enough to be my

  skeleton: you know that also.

  I can’t tell you I don’t want you

  the sea is on your side

  You have the earth’s nets

  I have only a pair of scissors.

  When I look for you I find

  water or moving shadow

  There is no way I can lose you

  when you are lost already.

  They were all inaccurate:

  the hinged bronze man, the fragile man

  built of glass pebbles,

  the fanged man with his opulent capes and boots

  peeling away from you in scales.

  It was my fault but you helped,

  you enjoyed it.

  Neither of us will enjoy

  the rest: you following me

  down streets, hallways, melting

  when I touch you,

  avoiding the sleeves of the bargains

  I hold out for you,

  your face corroded by truth,

  crippled, persiste
nt. You ask

  like the wind, again and

  again and wordlessly, for the one forbidden thing:

  love without mirrors and not for

  my reasons but your own.

  He is last seen

  1

  You walk towards me

  carrying a new death

  which is mine and no-one else’s;

  Your face is silver

  and flat, scaled like a fish

  The death you bring me

  is curved, it is the shape

  of doorknobs, moons

  glass paperweights

  Inside it, snow and lethal

  flakes of gold fall endlessly

  over an ornamental scene,

  a man and woman, hands joined and running

  2

  Nothing I can do will slow you

  down, nothing

  will make you arrive any sooner

  You are serious, a gift-bearer,

  you set one foot

  in front of the other

  through the weeks and months, across

  the rocks, up from

  the pits and starless

  deep nights of the sea

  towards firm ground and safety.