After Flaubert

This entry was posted by on Wednesday, 30 June, 2010 at

“The human tongue is a cracked cauldron on which we
beat out tunes to set a bear dancing when we would make
the stars weep with our melodies.”   Gustave Flaubert

The S.O.S. drummers
(Sex On Sunday)
set our hips swaying
our feet shuffling
like dancing bears.

The lead singer
belts out a melody:
on the make
with a mike

his tongue’s not cracked
(nor a cauldron)
but he is loud…

Flaubert wants stars to weep
though he knows they can’t.

On the make
with words, myself,
I understand.

Sometimes they’re too much with me.

And my ear’s a willful harp
playing out folk melodies
when I would be symphonic—
or make the stars to weep—

I tell my tongue be still,
think Save Our Ship, think
Sex On Sunday
keep feet shuffling
like a dancing bear.

     first published in POETRY NOW

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