David Groulx’s Wrathful Day

Dies Irae

day of wrath

Sunday morning listen to civilizations mechanical Cartesian rhythms
of

the coffee bean came from poverty-stricken Columbia
milk from a bovine destined for slaughter
no sugar

life is sweet enough.

I know a song that has no beats, no rhythms
and no sounds

haunting echoes of the universal
emptiness

all my strophes and all my chorus
un-stood

tenor, symbol, metaphor

when it’s structural, it’s all you can do

to taste the acid the song goes roar

I am iambic pentameter who you always bring back because you don’t have enough
money to live in Montreal
or the moon.

I am the only thing right with the world
I am a natural desire
natural man-flesh
I vibrate to the low frequencies
touch the high ones too
I am the pure DNA between flesh and God

I am an ox
turning.

When I was young
my life was Epicurus’
now I am old
Diogenes has taken hold

I need something that rhymes with the sound of a siren
to de-cauterize my neighbourhood
life is desperate
life has a grudge against us
and death loves us too much

Finding meaning is not impossible, it’s just nobody bothers with it.
we ghost the world.

 


Copyright© 2022, by David Groulx. All Rights Reserved.

David Groulx’s 11th book of poetry, From Turtle Island to Gaza (Athabasca University Press), was released in 2019.

 

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