(On ending another semester teaching Shakespeare)
Now unlooked whisperskin leaves dry. Now choke
on fear trapped words, magister, (another fuck).
Now halt haunting and bathing words in blood-cloak;
Tireseas is gone and you’re still stuck
Shift-settling syllabi in your sleep,
Now butterfly-wondering, do I dream?
Now sacrifice is done, your words they’ll keep
Like ashes and dust scattered on the stream.
But one, but two… You remember faces
Emerged, while you played priest and filled the trough,
From midnight mist and all the hopeless places,
Then gazed, then spoke, then laughed, and then broke off.
I teach to know the shadows flicker-still,
The living and the dead, are one in will.