Friday, July 10, 2020

Repost: Poem: Hockney at Bellevue . . . "the promise of love's eternal blank comfort"

Hockney at Bellevue 

There’s all kinds of ways to 
enter one of 

Hockney’s pools, 
to part the cerulean acrylic, 

become California, 
no longer dream young men 

in radiant absence but 
engage perfections of skin 

and promise of
love eternal’s blank comfort, 

including this way, in winter 
3,000 miles away and 

over a sludge of feta and 
fries, 

indistinct life's landscape 
not thrilled with 

its inability to be simply 
necessary (without 

a pallid cuisine of industrial 
vistas, no inside, no 
 
hospital, no chance to see 
humanity restored by 

experts reconstructing 
pools of human flesh). 

 __________ 
Sarah Sarai, pub. in Parthenon West Review, 2010.

Collected in That Strapless Bra in Heaven (Kelsay Books), 2020.

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