FOR PRIMO LEVI

 

            Hence, we do not need to imagine,

            with the Jews, that there is a little

            bone of insurmountable hardness

            in which the soul takes refuge.

            - Leibniz: Letters to Arnauld

 

 

The stairwell smelt of nothing

special. You gravitated towards

the stone floor, thinking

'Read from right to left, then

your whole life will be

your whole life.' A pair of pajamas

with every stripe the same width –

and your father’s dark dressing gown.

 

 

 

 

COME DOWN

 

Water to sky and back

in acid rain, illogical

until it strikes you:

 

'How is the boy?

Does he still have a fever?

Who does he think he is?'

 

*

A wine bottle on its side.

The whole expanse

partial, impartial as far as

 

you go. Blackberry inherits

the earth, its nature

barbarous for Christians.

 

*

Twenty steps then

ten. Plain and painful

the truth: there's no room

 

left for you, turn

back through the orchard.

No apple, only the pip.

 

*

Of course you can

come in. Here is the altar

and here is your license to kneel.

 

Soon you will see

the rear garden, where

stone arches grow

 

names.

 

 

 

SENTENCE

 

The waitress who poured water delivers dust

in small bowls, Your order, sir.

Her face was borrowed from a votive offering, is stony

knowing the score: four incisions

 

deep in the cheek – a god’s token, a boyfriend’s fear?

In so far as they occur, things have meaning

but meaning is not their purpose. Prayers

evaporate like the complaints of children in mid-

 

sentence. Don’t tell me, Time is a river – I can’t swim.

Don’t cry, You’re as young as you feel!

Feelings, even real ones with lingerie, won’t help

as the doctor and the priest confer.

 

 

 

© David Howard