The ferryman carried me, (married, me), buried me
there in the Underworld, he spied me and pried me,
(belittled and mocked, me) beat down and rocked, I
was round I was ground into hardwood floors,
wanting no more; so as I lay dying, as I was lying
in that boat’s greasy water, so sorry to bother,
in the shadowed hollow I said I’d folllow
but it carried me down, that leaky old boat
creaking afloat, and that ferryman, that very man,
that Charon of the thousand yard stare,
Charon of the long grizzled beard and hair
took pity as we crossed, had mercy and he tossed
me onto that grassy bank of the black river’s flank,
cold and shivering, old, that river brings…. but oh,
Shakespearean lark! his brother bold and younger
steps out of the dark, awakens my hunger,
holding up a joint, then, holding disappointment
(society, parents, brothers, nevermind!)
it’s an unsteady landing but I’m up and I’m standing,
now there he holds me enfolds me nobody told me
he’s pressing me resting me testing me
against these cabin walls my defenses fall
I’m not protesting the heat of his body
the beat of his heart sudden sound of strings
he sings the Long Black Veil unfurling my sails
they billow and rise my soul inflates and
he quotes Yeats until I cry out, I cry out, I cry –
until there is nothing to do but wait I
anticipate those primordial stars lighting the way, I sway
drunkenly through the rushes, he stumbles and pushes
the raft through the reeds,
the sawgrass scrapes, my bare legs bleed
but I clamber on, shaken loose from the snapping
noose where I heavily hung, recently swung
laden with lies – now fireflies wink and blink and
bats are looping swooping from willows to the
docks and rocks and back again, catching doubts
and darting in an out, in and out,
the wavering light tonight of that waxing gibbous moon
skritching the long sleek back of that river so black
arching like a cat over the shallows and rocks
delivering me back to the docks on the land of the living
the bank forgiving where I stand naked and dripping, tripping,
and reflecting the light of the moon reflecting
the cant of the tune
rejecting every last hook
every last dirty look
that once pierced my side.
Halfway North 