IRC-Galleria

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Catch a Body
by Ilse Bendorf

Salinger, I’m sorry, but “Don’t ever tell
anybody anything” is a string of words
I would like to wrap up in canvas and sink
to the bottom of the Hudson, or extract
by laser from the ribcage of all of us
who ever believed it, who felt afraid
to miss someone, to be the last one
standing. “Tell everyone everything” is
not exactly right, but I do believe that if
your mother looks radiant in violet
you should tell her, or when a juvenile
sparrow thrashes its wings in dustpiles
and reminds you of a loverÂ’s eyelashes,
you should say so. We are islands all of us,
but we are also boats, our secrets flares,
pyrotechnic devices by which we signal
thereÂ’s someone in here weÂ’re still alive!
So maybe it’s, “don’t be afraid.” We can
rewrite Icarus, flame-resistant feathers,
wax that wonÂ’t melt, I mean it, IÂ’ll draw up
a prototype right now, that burning ball
of orange wonÂ’t stop us, itÂ’ll be everything
we dream the morning after, even if we fall
into the sea—we are boats, remember?
We are pirates. We move in nautical miles.
Each otherÂ’s anchors, each otherÂ’s buoys,
the rocketÂ’s red, already the world entire.

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Also, happy St George's Day >u< *huggles England*.