December 2012 - Comments Off on Sonnet to Fiona Apple

Sonnet to Fiona Apple

Sam Mayer '13

after Rilke
There were lights like eyestalks there, and lesbians
drinking beer. There were two boys in the balcony
smoking a joint and a gold ceiling painted in clouds.
There was darkness, then, almost imperceptible, She-

There was a face, smarting and a-glow, eyes like stalks of light
shooting up towards the deep midnight purple night sky.
There was an ankle scratching another ankle; imperceptible
tics and then she was to be on the floor, then salty breath on wires.

Dare to be Fiona Apple. Dare to push a spastic, veiny lyre
towards the sky towards my face, dare to creep inside
an ear and lay your gooey roe inside its throbbing drum. There
was a pile of organs there, throbbing under a sweet blue light.

And even if I was, what would I do with my face?
Could I control my muscles, could you?

Published by: in Poetry, Volume 69: Issue 1

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