"A'idah" copyright by Christopher Clements
In Praise of Drama
Praise drama, that long opera of night
Turning daylight, for giving the night birds to me
And my own white spider, part of a tear, by the white horse.
And drama, which writes in lipstick on the mirror
And since time passes but pain doesn't, edits
That lipstick smear. Drama, which places a sword
Between the lovers, this never bodes for well.
Drama the femme fatale and drama the man in black.
Thank you drama, for leaving my life alone
Until I was old enough and could appreciate
Your gift. You choose our hell and provided food
For the melt down night, liquids for the trysts.
Early morning walk and sacrifice. "Cut off the hydra head
And more grow back," this is what drama said. And drama
Who loves the night, two people making claims,
Staking out territory. Watering the soil
Because it never never rains.
Drama, that Communist and drama the acrobat,
Entering my life with a taste of heaven
Also at its wildest feast. A butterfly that died.
A galloping of hooves that beat past the kitchen window
Where there were no horses, and beat and beat.
My peaceful life illuminated by grief, filigree
At the edges of the text. Days when nothing happens
Will return, blessed as desert rain and winter heat.
Drama, thank you, for revealing the form within the life,
A body hunched in anger, dumb words spoken in code.
Drama, huge queen with scepter and crown. The fat lady
Endlessly sings. The curtain comes down and down and down.
Copyright Joan Logghe
