Reflections on a 10th Century Fragment A discrete elbow of the art museum, the lower torso of a Yakshi--semi-divine, notes the label on the wall. Location unknown. Also lost, her naked wrists and ankles, their bangles, her feminine abundances. A sprite fond of trees. Coleridge in mufti stands transfixed, ignoring agnostic admonitions not to idolize an icon. The raddled hem of her garment, subtle mons, tensile thigh poised as if a moment in her hypnotic dance. A goddess manqué. Boat of a pelvis meant to rock. Like the truncated mannequin at L’Ivresse (a shop in Essex-on-Onion), also without, except the suggestive twist of knickers with (imagine) Ashoka flower lace. Next to the foxy mannequin derriere, as sister poet blew intoxicating verbal smoke and veiled allusions, he dreamt eyes soft as flowers and other figments of desire. Mystery, how one fragment implies a fractal, merges with another (all time being one time), centuries ancient and at the reading yesterday. A goddess is a goddess. Paused a moment. Torque of heart’s rest—nada that follows each r-wave blip on the EKG monitor when spirit animates flesh (skips a beat). Augurs admiration. Look here: We all have a ticket to ride (mind the gap). An iamb then a prayer. Daniel Lusk Daniel Lusk is author of The Vermeer Suite and other books, most recently Every Slow Thing, poems (Kelsay Books 2022), and Farthings eBook (Yavanika Press 2022). His work is published widely in literary journals, and his genre-bending essay “Bomb” (New Letters), was awarded a 2016 Pushcart Prize. Native of the prairie Midwest and a former commentator on small press books for NPR, Daniel is a Senior Lecturer of English Emeritus at the University of Vermont.
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
The Ekphrastic Review
COOKIES/PRIVACY
This site uses cookies to deliver your best navigation experience this time and next. Continuing here means you consent to cookies. Thank you. Join us on Facebook:
October 2024
|