Postcard From Your Venetian Lover, Signore (1943)


Signore---

Please do
Not tell
Me of the Moon on
The canals I
Sleep wrapped
By silver
Every night---metal is misleading it is
Much worse than any
Love or bleeding
Wound:
Golden reflections
Are
Soldiers

(venice. far from monte cassino. anzio. the war is here either Way)

Signore---

Here?
Ah the Bruise of sky fades into the
Spaces underneath Your cheekbones
and Your eyes
…they are
Soldiers that seem broken
As the stars
In the canals

(lights a cigarette)

Signore---

I told you last Time that the
Saints were nothing but men
Who were more. Ah, mine.
Mine. Relics and remnants,
Darling.

(churches mortared. dust of ages bones of martyrs hearts of saints. The Trinity)

Signore---

Thru' you
The Vandals have
Returned to
Sack Rome once
More. You are a Saint
And a soldier, Love.
Blue as
Swans and the
Sharded glass stains your
Eyes.

(legend. light under your smile. the murder of it)

l(a)o(m)v(o)e(re) (mine) (murderer)

Signore---
Italy lies as after Twelve centuries
Of Power. Romans and Fascists
Darling. (Prediletto)
All the saints and Augustine's
God (Our Trinity now from broken Churches and spires) in
Khaki and blue-eyed
Welcome
To (venice) Rome, love. The
Cathedrals
Are falling 'round and you
Are tired from
Your weeping

(bluesmoke and your face in the canals
we are at war. at

war)