
“Hurt Into Poetry: On Poetry and Greece”By Stephanos Papadopoulos
323
A Stonehold
the thief has made me a gift of his night’s bootysomewhere, a daughter discovers her mother’s coralbrooch missing, somewhere, a man recoils at the absenceof his gambling stash. somewhere, a miser riflesover a vanished ransom in newly minted silverall this to buy a hotbed of memoriesto feed the children fresh-killed liesto open all the locks on loveforever is a moment we hold in our stomachsas he brushes the smudge of his kissacross my lips, i smell the cologne of his feara robust and smoky aroma mingledwith the woody musk of courtrooms and the stench ofpain-paved alleywaysi take these things and promise to say mum
Wanda Coleman, “A Stonehold” from Mercurochrome. Copyright © 2001 by Wanda Coleman. Reprinted by permission of Black Sparrow Press (Godine).

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