Talkies by justin spring - HTML preview

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CELTS

 

 

A woman I made love to thirty years ago

is sitting in her motel room telling me

how much she's come to admire the Celts,

their jewelry, how beautiful it was,

all those concentric spirals, and curves,

but I can't tell  if she's trying to seduce me

or still making amends for her mother,

the way she's suddenly reminding me

how much her mother hated me

for being Irish, and from Brooklyn, 

And for not kissing her ass,

she leans in confidentially to remind me,

but I let it slip between us like a shadow

because I can't bring myself to tell her

how indifferent I was to all of that

the moment she was trembling beneath me

like an open wound, and then I'm

slowly sinking down inside myself,

half-listening to her go on about the Celts,

how civilized they were, that the women

kept their own property after marriage,

Something that didn't happen here

until quite recently, she says, as if

wanting to comfort me in some odd,

historical way against the vagaries

of my second divorce, but I’m so deep

I can barely hear her, and then, all of a sudden

 

 

(Con’t.)

 

I’m swimming like crazy to the surface

because I hear he saying something

about the Celts stripping themselves

naked, painting their bodies blue

before hurling themselves into battle,

that even Caesar feared them, she says,

and here she pauses for a moment,

as if searching for the right word, and then,

suddenly, she says it: Because the Celts

were so fatalistic, and all of a sudden the women, and the rage, and the blue, naked bodies

are circling all around me, looking

for a place to land, and they

almost do, because I almost

say to her: They were like us, artists,

how else can you explain it? 

but I don't, because I know

it's not quite right, and then

a voice inside me whispers: The women

were as fierce as the men, and then:

They honored everything, and suddenly

the women and the jewelry and the blue,

naked bodies come whirling down around me

like a  flock of crows and I'm saying to myself: Honor, it was honor made them what they were,

but when I look across the bed at her,

I don't know what to say because

I don't really know what I mean

by honor, or even how to begin

to explain it, so I say nothing.

What is there to say?

What can I say,

I who have honored nothing.