Today's poem is by Partridge Boswell

Never the Twain

Perfect pearl suspended
            in the crosshairs of my apotheosis
                        bright enough to read by

to do all the things
            you dreamed in daylight
                        of doing but didn't dare

not with the sun there
            glaring you have to be-
                        have under winged

surveillance unless yours is
            one badassed archangel
                        in wayfarers pomaded

Memphis rebel you can't quite put
            your finger on something irresistible
                        & not to be trusted in his johnnyroy

elvisjerrylee swagger & Lansky's
            shirt gut-sure he'd sell you like
                        Sam Phillips down the muddy

river for vinyl immortality &
            a stick of Beamans whereas mine
                        all corporate merger mumbles

into his lapel perched like secret
            service on the U-haul building
                        across the street talons

poised to pry me from the wreckage
            of another bombed out workday
                        we soar between supermarket

& supper wired to children's
            babelsong our safe house
                        roof now googlable from space—

remember that place? frozen
            sparks & shadowmime juxta-
                        posed deep as artesian dreams

impervious to discovery
            or possession & therefore ruin
                        in an hour maybe two

You'll return from your
            separate well-lit country
                        after you've cleared their tables

collected tips I'll find wadded on
            the bathroom counter come morning
                        the scent of last night's special

infused in your hair
            you won't mind if I don't wait up
                        to watch this fallen

funambulist arc across
            summer's final panel
                        the only clue to loss her

silent progress above the trees
            subtle bling of constellations
                        dissolved in her domineering sheen

a gaudy surrogate backlighting
            a recurring dream in which
                        we're both in the same place

at the same time
            wedded to a dark uncertain thrill
                        before it dawned & became our life.

Copyright © 2013 Partridge Boswell All rights reserved
from Some far Country
Grolier Poetry Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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