Revisitation

SuZi

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Despite the arrogance of his beauty,
he taught math to rooms of
us, the pre-pubescent…
ever more bewildered by his cologne
than the protocols of elusive integers.

He spoke of himself as
“peaches and cream” in
“size eleven shoes”

but it was the smell
of his secret places
unsolved by sculpture
that found in us
a silence
sought but never again found
in ponds emerald with algae
and other climbs to absolution.
Ablutions henceforth
will never suffice;
for never will our skin be so pure
as the clarity of his odor
against the flesh of erupting hormones.

He was thunder without magic…
and maybe it is only the swelling gray
that rises from the treeline
vivifying all the green-life
with a potent whiff of promise.

 

 


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Page  Forty One

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