Rimbaud: A Silent Hotel

In a sense,

It was just a momentary

Sense of pride that tore open my lips,

Allowing the undiminished

Pursuer to present himself at the throne.

It was the moment of fury,

A nightmare of a sort, but my need

Was glory and a passion of terror.

A scandal clad in all the robes

Of dignity in shame.

"Come forward!" he shouted

As the rain came up

Against the walls.

Erotic rain on this age old house.

Dripping over his beard...

And It was green, the rain was.

Absinthe on the tongue.

Facedown contemplation

Of the falling rain

Keeps the thunder at bay,

I've held to this before,

And I cry in bitterness,

Clouds carry more raindrops

Than my eyes hold tears!

Leave the door open when you leave,

I need everyone to be certain

Of the decadence of my youth!

Be sure to close

The curtains though,

It is dark outside

And it was there that I sought

The resurrection of an unloved crown.

And there it was also that

I held the door in a desperate bid

for a split seconds eye contact

With the flighty beloved

Of my forlorn childhood.

Rest now assured,

Her image vanished

With the gulls that hung

Their feathers on the fortunes

Of the barbarous

Witnesses of the empty lake.

Now you see

Why the curtains are purple.

Why the empire kept

Its ancient hold on the mirror.

The room itself is awash with light,

But from whence it emerges is impossible.

Drink only the rainwater now,

Lest the rust that paints my miserable

Walls be tempted to avenge me.

-Aaron Lantz

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