​​H E R M E N E U T I C   C H A O S   J O U R N A L

BILL YARROW



Aubade Faucet                                                                  


I.


​he leans his messy head against the wall 
and contemplates his wild mistakes 

he discovers a nest of red spiders
​ outside his rotting basement door 

​he watches television in his socks 
and thinks about the world to come 


II.

​he discovers a nest of red spiders 
and thinks about the world to come 

he leans his messy head against the wall 
outside his rotting basement door

he watches television in his socks
and contemplates his wild mistakes




                                                    
                                    
1
D.H. Lawrence Ghazal

                                                   

How many shadows in your soul? Close your eyes, my love, let me

make you blind as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

The street lamps in the darkness have suddenly started to bleed. 
​The hoar-frost crumbles in the sun like the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

​The sick grapes on the chair by the bed, the silk obscure leaves...
Taste, oh taste, and let me taste the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

​A wet bird walks on the lawn like a needle steadfastly. See
the laburnum shimmering like the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

I who am substance of shadow, I all compact, I own that some of me 
is dead tonight as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

​ My beautiful, lonely body, tired and unsatisfied—I wish I bore it more patiently 
as dolphins that leap from the sea, as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

She bade me follow to her garden where Death has delivered us utterly
full of disappointment and of rain as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

​Further down the valley the clustered tombstones recede. 
My soul lies helpless as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

The thought of the lipless voice of the Father shakes me with filigree
and uncanny cold like the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

​The Angel of Judgment has departed again to the Nearness, but surely 
​my soul's best dream is still the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.




1 
A ghazal made from lines in poems from Amores by D.H. Lawrence. SOURCES: • A wet bird walks on the lawn (“A Passing Bell”) • As dolphins that leap from the sea ("The Mystic Blue") • As the wings of a drenched, drowned bee (“A Baby Asleep after Pain”) • But surely my soul's best dream is still (“Excursion”) • Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind (“A Spiritual Woman”) • Death has delivered us utterly ("Brother and Sister") • Full of disappointment and of rain ("Ballad of Another Ophelia") • Further down the valley the clustered tombstones recede (“At the Window”) • How many shadows in your soul? ("In a Boat") • I own that some of me is dead to-night (“The End”) • I will give you all my keys ("Tease") • I wish I bore it more patiently ("Study") • I who am substance of shadow, I all compact (“Blue”) • Like a needle steadfastly ("Patience") • My beautiful, lonely body tired and unsatisfied (Virgin Youth") • My soul lies helpless ("The Virgin Mother") • See the laburnum shimmering ("Drunk") • She bade me follow to her garden, where (“Snap-Dragon”) • Taste, oh taste and let me taste (“Liaison”) • The Angel of Judgment has departed again to the Nearness (“The Punisher”) • The hoar-frost crumbles in the sun (“Anxiety”) • The sick grapes on the chair by the bed ("Malade") • The silk, obscure leaves ("Mating") • The street lamps in the darkness have suddenly started to bleed (“At the Window”) • The thought of the lipless voice of the Father shakes me ("Monologue of a Mother") • With filigree and uncanny cold ("The Bride") • You are strong and passive and beautiful (“Reproach”) • You with your face all rich ("Scent of Irises")









Bill Yarrow is the author of The Lice of Christ (MadHat Press, 2014), Incompetent Translations and Inept Haiku (Červená Barva Press, 2013) and Pointed Sentences (BlazeVOX, 2012). His poems have appeared in many print and online magazines including Poetry International, RHINO, Contrary, DIAGRAM, Gargoyle, and PANK. He is a Professor of English at Joliet Junior College where he teaches creative writing, film, and Shakespeare.