POEM: “Starlight Holies” — That so far away is a man with a piece of me / That I float around across the world in a fucked-up memory.
Starlight Holies
All those boys of many nights – trophies
But the few who got inside – my holies.
Holy art thou who made their way in.
Savoured by my flavour for these bearded men.
All treated entry as sacred.
Except the last one, which explains my fate therein.
The only one with whom there might be children.
The frustration that all I want, he’s got on his island.
That so far away is a man with a piece of me
That I float around across the world in a fucked-up memory.
I want it back, back on my own continent
For if I’m thought of there, I am there: unembodiment.
And I am weightless, then, not an entity in flesh
Even though I was meat to his entreaty once in London.
There are men in Britain and New Zealand
Who have had my self, my body, and rear end.
All those boys of many nights – comedies.
But the few who got inside – my entities.
Making love is a creation of a tangible accuracy
Having a kid of it is the purest evidence of its engineering
But without purpose or appreciation all vanishes
And memories are like punishments lingering in distance
Like starlight traveling from dead stars beyond
The resonance of an emotion: from anger, becomes love?
Sylvie Hill, Montreal, September 27, 2019