...notwithstanding its singularity in the three
great essentials of matter, form, and place: I beg,
therefore, you will accept it as such, and that you
will permit me to lay it, with the most respectful humility,
at your...feet—when you are upon them,—which you can
be when you please,—and that is...whenever there is
occasion for it...
Tristram Shandy
But don’t bother standing up on my account, neither patroness
nor muse. Don’t underline the headlines in the evening paper,
when, after all, my brain is filled with other news, in praise of
you, our love, the sweet scent of our thoughts upon the air,
unlike yesterday’s fiery wreck on route 304, the driver as drunk
as a sailor (which in fact he was), or the unspeakable injuries
of children when their mother’s boyfriend goes off the deep end
(where I know you would hold such men under with your own
hands), these idioms of neglect and carelessness or cruel addiction
not to your liking (or mine), as I describe your eyes gleaming
in the sunset that flares over the distant hill, and blue darkness
descends, the iris closes, the owl settles in the nearest branches
who-whooing to call me to you, as the moon rises, though be it
known in all night-blooming particulars that I never leave your side.
John Allman | Airport
Contents | Mudlark No. 48 (2012)