cavatica

I wrote this back in October and cannot for the life of me figure out why I didn't post it here. I'm thinking I'll submit it to our school's literary magazine next semester. I generally don't write lower-case stream-of-consciousness like this, but I think my mood warranted it at the time. It's also--according to my poetry professor, whose advice I sought--got a few trouble spots I'll likely end up revising, but on the whole, I'm pretty satisfied with it.

Confessions of a plumber

dreamed you again
nights ago
who knows how many;
not for the first time
god damn you
i've willed you away but
you
keep
coming
back
in these tangle-legged vagaries
so real
with plumbing twisted
like pipe dreams should be

i clung to it

but woke anyway

heart-contused
where i brained it
with a rusty joint left in my way
and i wish now
for an aqueduct from Lethe
oblivion-cold:
just a sip
a palliative
(but not a cure)
for the soulsickness i incurred
you had it first
you gave it me
in the virulent sorrow
of memory.