I

Once, we were walking through the Old City
Near the skating rink, ice overshadowed
By the grand Carousel, grand and empty
Except for us, my blue spirit hallowed

Like the slick cobblestones that slipped us down
Streets. You slipped by with your French and bore us
To that hanging Cathedral, argent crown
Over some savior, Jesus, Zeus, Moses…

We were lost in ourselves too much, enough
To know you were flint, and I was too rough.

II

Places and faces and too many streets;
Your legs ached, as my heart: cruel splinters in
Our happiness. When I scoured the sheets
Your scent turned my heart into the frozen

Rink, which you scratched and spun and split me through.
All I wanted was to hide in the small
Of your back, hold your ribs and not the truth,
Watch them scurry like dust in a wind hall.

Is it too much to ask someone to lie?
Forget yourself, learn me here, side by side.

III

After your sixth beer you asked if Jesus
Was coming to save you; I couldn’t bear
The thought. What sort of god would divide us?
No matter how good you thought I was; fear

Not. These desires are enough to send
Me deep beneath the Old Port, carousel
Of damned lovers who could never quite bend
The rules in the devil’s way. Just as well;

These fallacies of my own creation
Damn me now into sweet ideation.

 

 

 

 


C. Michael Senko is a freshman from Boston, MA studying linguistics and communication studies. He is a member of Extreme Measures a Cappella, Sigma Chi fraternity, and has many food allergies.