[Varius, you know something about love]

— Lee Rossi

Varius, you know something about love.
I woke early and walked to the verandah,

saw the fog welling offshore like a giant
wave. To the east it had already engulfed

the land. Only peaks and ridges survived
as islands. It’s a day when burly autumn

pushes aging summer aside, the kind of day
when I want to find a girl and hold her

until even that doesn’t help. Does anything
help? That smug bastard, Crassus,

sits on his 200 acres, slaves doing all
the work, and praises the simple life.

There’s a chill in the air, Varius,
but it’s in me too. Who will remember

us, when we’re gone? Our children?
They’ll be forgotten too, and we’ll be

just faces in old pictures, stern or seedy or
bewilderingly strange. And what about

these words? Will they speak across the years?
Who will hear this dodgy, fearful voice?

One thought on “[Varius, you know something about love]

  1. This is so amazing: technical power (fantastic enjambments!) being the wave upon which the meaning rides. But notice how the moment of meditation collapses ‘now’ into the void of measureless time. Love it.

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