FRESCO, VILLA OF MYSTERIES
Give me a quiet garden, Horatio. One made of mouths, the skin
of Dionysus and flowers spilling into the stone courtyard
and let the courtyard not be made of the sun’s lace
for we must wait until the 16th century
for lace to make its appearance. Not of Venetian glass beads
for no slave has yet been traded for glass. Rather let us
build the openwork fabric of our garden
on the fear in the body
of a simple virgin who approaches marriage and if the details
of these frescoes are difficult to interpret, still, there can be
no argument as to their high quality.
ATRIUM, HOUSE OF THE SILVER WEDDING
Life must have been extremely comfortable at Pompeii.
In the summer, the open plan of the house would help keep the interior cool.
My mother came rushing into the bedroom. I believed I was perishing
along with everyone else. Tallahassee, invest in gold now.
There was an eclipse. Tallahassee, we are waiting
for you to invest in gold. All the charm and comforts of Pompeii
pale in comparison to Imperial Rome. Tallahassee, get gold
shipped to your door. We specialize in buying old and broken
gold and silver jewelry, as well as old US coins, foreign coins,
bullion from around the world, and sterling silver flatware and hollowware.
MODEL RECONSTRUCTION OF ANCIENT ROME
In the lower right is the Pantheon. We use a program called
MODFLOW to model groundwater and drawdown
of the aquifer. The sun moves across the oculus
as children dig holes in the garden.
Today, I stole a few hours from work.
The structure of the whole is a symbol of the world.
The structure and I hate each other.
Arches spring up. Do you want to go to Sephora?
Here I am. Sephora, gold mascara, symbol of stolen work.
HEAD OF THE COLOSSAL STATUE OF CONSTANTINE (I)
Simply being white is not indicative of power
for some worked on peanut farms.
Yet, simply being white is indicative of power,
for some worked on peanut farms.
The Roman Empire did not fall overnight.
I spent the night making a presentation for
faculty senate on our retirement package and our
promotion system. The soldiers felt no loyalty
to the empire so their lives became abstractions.
They called the university a “family.”
At meetings, I could tell the workers wanted
to hold their babies and grandchildren. My daughter is
13 pounds. Total collapse was prevented by
two emperors. Horatio, I live in the provinces.
Horatio, I am minor. Therefore, all.
HEAD OF THE COLOSSAL STATUE OF CONSTANTINE (II)
At New Leaf Market, Ezekiel shouts,
“I came out of mommy’s uterus.”
I believe in the proper names of things.
Let an intestine be called an intestine but don’t
let that forest be called Lake Ella unless
Ezekiel is looking into the painting
and points to a dragon, a troll, an ogre.
A woman approaches us and says
she taught her son the same thing
about names. “Where is he now?” I ask.
“He is dead now,” she says and leaves.
This man I loved, he did not love me
and as fascinating as this may be—come to me,
back to Tallahassee we buy
silver, gold, melt down your
engagement ring, wedding ring,
anything, Tallahassee, spiral me, never me,
opulent, see?—well, maybe
he did love me after all. Nothing
clear except a lack of metaphor,
madrigal, musical jokes.
O the danger of the physical
involving considerable breath control, porn.
JACOB BLESSING THE SONS OF JOSEPH (REMBRANDT)
It is 1656, the year of my financial collapse.
When my husband and I were separated,
my first thought was I cannot let anyone
fall into my debt. Asenath, Joseph’s wife,
should not fall into my debt. Nor Andrew.
Nor Mary. Nor Joseph. Not Ezekiel. Not
Charlotte. Not Alice. No one
should fall. We walked by the US Mint
which was etched into the coinage
of the Pacific. He never married
Hendrickjs Stoffels and his unconventional
behavior alienated him still further
from his contemporaries. At work, I place my
index finger on the picture, the little family
in a boat of heavy curtains, hair and paint.
Shut up, Louis, you are sooooooo not sixty-three
in this painting!
Plastic surgery and pop-tarts. Amazing!
Ermine-lined robes, mission creep, drones,
Ann Romney let them eat—wrong Louis, Alice.
Wrong Louis!—skip
ahead thirty pages, exchange the I and V,
the object and subject, figure
and head, history and princess,
Roman and iPhone—
Qu’ils mangent de la brioche—
the God particle and stock market.
Sephora, this one’s for my sagging face
and the service worker who wants to sell me
pink hair mascara. She is poor; let her
sell. This poem is for my debit
card. My daughter is 14 pounds.
And it is also for the legislation
of my uterus. Sephora, don’t say it
in public. Don’t say it on the floor.
Don’t be too political. Why don’t you
respond to my advances? Why such a cold,
uncaring bitch? My mother used to say
I am so sick of picking
up after you. She’d chase us around
the apartment with a hairbrush.
MARCHESA ELENA GRIMALDI, WIFE OF MARCHESE NICOLA CATTANEO
This red umbrella points West
but I will not hold it. Instead, I will hold a branch
and I will never turn around
to see what I have done.
