The Proposition (Pushkin)

Tried out something kind of cool with this one: transliterated this and turned the sounds into what seemed right. Here is a version of the original (didn't read it until after I wrote mine). I recommend this trick to people who want to depart from their usual styles.

The Proposition

Here, poppyseeded, tulip-rooted girl,

I've brought you something your myopic eyes can read.

No more running between pools of hot and cold water,

no nestling myself within your three houses.

The cabbage still quivers in the springtime fields;

the round jingle metal hum leads to summer;

my loyal pinto plays the existential philosopher;

and thieves scavenge like yesterday.

But, cream-filled bundt, we pair in the ranches

repeatedly, you so close to the hairs on my body.

We've built our own philosopher's farm for golems

with my bulbs and your mineral-rich tears.

Together we are the rushing of the river over the rocks,

and January cannot freeze us, we are May:

holy in the cellar stairwell, holy at the dusty crossroads,

holy rooms, holy boxes, holy honeypots.

So if I proposed a new Wednesday education

and nudged you toward a voting booth

no more could you run me with your arguments,

no more would I nestle in your three houses,

and I would pay you back for mud and seriousness

and chalk up the velvet, vulgar words you make me think.

And in your maroon chair, open this letter,

and look, and read slowly, and consent.

Under the Arch

Hey mister, anybody ever tell you

that in a long, tall glass of water

you're the chunk of lime?

Legs like legends, unspooling,

and your concentration's blurry

and your clothes are ironed sharp,

all lines and angles and

protractions, a whole made up of fractions,

mathematical, leaning precise

in the decadent magnolia air,

in the bowed mahogany sound,

in the softness of spring

you are clear as ice, cut right

and reflecting the starlight that

no one else looks to see.

Muse, two thousand and seven

pictures of you again, and they call back your animal

smell, the softness of the flannel you wore, the softness

of your voice, I always had to lean so close to hear

that your soft hair tickled my face. Jason's wool.

Your paint-stained hands, great thumbs, the stink of your

great white feet, beached whales. the celebration

when we came to an elevator, when we came to the

ice-cream-vending-machine

(that deserves its very own line); fantastic; your manic eyes

like animals, like animals, but somehow

each day you were in clothes, buttoned right. it was like

a miracle, or maybe like a sin. You and your clumsy limbs,

the gawk of your height, golden-haired giant, monster, muse, me

moving always closer to you, me drawn always closer--

phoenix, phantasm, there's something miraculous

about the fact that your long eyelashes and mine

collided, July, our shyest sleeves kissing,

about the fact that I ate your radishes: you taught me

that anyone's learnable, even a prophet,

even the least earthly prophet.

Tauromachy

Drag me up the roofs, bull,

push me through the floors;

I will break the boards,

stain the wood,

and when I try to shape my mouth

I blow a bubble with right angles:

I cannot speak but with my hands,

those roving birds that court south.

Oh, you are yoked, you are rooted,

but I have seen you chase vermilion,

your twin horns balancing oblivion,

your nimble hooves confused

and accidentally crushing.

I may spill the pail,

empty the grail

and still you will never end up with nothing.

Why would you need the filling of a lover?

I will be the one tipped over and cracked,

perhaps,

as your toes stay wreathed in clover.

NEPTUNE

Beat me: my blood is yours
Slap me: my eyes belong to you
Swallow me whole & I will try
not to die so I can sing your praises
when you in your gracefulness let me out,
my mouth wet with you, my hands dripping you,
all of my cells alive with the stinging
kisses that are you--

They don't understand why I stay with a man
who cups crimson pain in the palm of his hand,
they don't know, they don't know what it is
to grab your gaze. An instant
is worth my life. Your power
could harness tides.