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Poetry Library Southbank Centre - The Poetry Library housing the Arts Council Collection at Southbank Centre

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Marilyn Hacker

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nightsong

A plant will draw back vision to its source
and crack the glass if it is very tall
to grow by moonlight whose sufficient force
prevents my eyes from banging on the wall.
There is an undulant red satin back
that, exoskeletally ribbed in gold,
incites the digits' giggling maniac
to hold to have to hold to have to hold
to have cold water thicken on his tongue
until his anal gravy binds the sky
while no one looks particularly young
and certainly not you, friend bone, nor I.
Although you sweat and pant and show your skull
and tease your hair with overheated birds,
it's not my fault that you are beautiful
as a refrigerator full of words.
I was a polyglotted acrobat
who hoofed on a technicians' tour of hell
but now I'm going to drop the alphabet
and stay at home and teach my wound to spell.
And if you think my singing voice is nice
and want to comb my hair and think I'm sane
I'll cool my ears by sucking on some ice
and let you borrow someone else's brain.

 

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