To What Destiny of Mine
Poem
To what destiny of mine I ask , O
conscript fathers, so that I may have this
query rejoined. I tour the western rim
of the fluvius Tiberis as night pursues
the fleeing day with inky darkness. The oily
waters reflect a phosphorescent light;
a luminescence from the crests of ancient
sentinels. And I wonder at the army
of corpses who float prone in bloated
multitudes. Then, from the rancid flotsam,
the septic sewer, emerge creeping weeds,
avaricious fingers. They summon me
forward, receive me into their frigid
embrace. And I am gone to lay with my
old friend Cicero until the end of
fugitive time.
more by SERGIO REMON ALVAREZ
photograph by SERGIO REMON ALVAREZ
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