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ISSN 1409-6900 | UDK 82+7     Blesok no. 44 | volume VIII | September-October, 2005



                     Peer-reviewed journal
Blesok no. 44September-October, 2005

The Ridiculous Shape of Longing

p. 1
M.T.C. Cronin

The Ridiculous Shape of Longing
Possible Cures for Beauty
Two Thousand Poems
Sonnet Visiting at Night
A Fiction Reprised
We All Live in Exile
A Good Rage


The Ridiculous Shape of Longing

The words that tear out your tongue.
The burdens of your eyes.
The heart fists.
How tired thinking about black roses.
All the rose is red.
A little slaughter.
The second kiss that cannot forget the first.
Memory kneeling in a small field.
The field surrounded by trees.
A view of the cradle.
By now the womb is empty.
Piano slowing down.
Everywhere the future.
Looking through garbage.
Who dreams?
A song in sleep like a call of the soul.
A watermark.
Screaming what it does best.
Never repeated because it never breaks off.
Wearing the mask of life.
Even tighter at night.
At night there is a sea that covers even dry land.
To leap and submerge.
The earth wobbles with this longing.
Becomes every shape.
What runs through all tricks.
What doesn’t listen to the teacher in the self.
Birth of each wish.
Walking upside-down.
Arms full and overflowing.
No-one has written this.
What can never know satisfaction.
Just wanting.
Maybe to march across the sky.

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