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RiverNotch

Sanguine Bile, Troll and Boy
Pastoral (1st major revision)


A countryside heavy with harvest, rugged fingers
Thrust out of fear and fire
Trembling about a scythe,
The cold a tick away: types from an arche

Dissolving, space-time contracting
To anxiety's exclusion, to memory's conclusion,
To reincarnation: all form and image
The barren stock of words,

Points blossomed into lines
Reaped and reworked and printed and praised
More simply and swiftly forgotten,

Your red hair and my rough chin,
Hypostases to outlast the ousia that is us,
Clawing at the walls of the golden city---
 

RiverNotch

Sanguine Bile, Troll and Boy
Not a finished work by any means, but I think this is an interesting enough response to merit not-spoilering, at least for now.


BMO


I miss you already

will be replaced with

I miss waiting for you

will be replaced with

I miss remembering you.


Margles


He smiles and all I feel
is envy that he should be
allowed his ending. Oh, it is
its own pleasure: what little
of me that remains remembers
what it is, to be alive ---
to not be outlaw even
in the eyes of the cosmos.


Simon


It is not the sky that separates us but
the field of stars that try to outshine
your fading image or your broadening image,

I cannot tell. I asked you once to return
and you said no --- or, in horror, I heard
your silence as a "no".


Finn


I told her not to build a monument
to my more than eventful youth
nor to my brother's ageless mirth
which even his bones exude,

but to shape us sober, as we are now,
each lesson a wrinkle, a scar,
a clump of white propelling its way
through the black earth of a wart ---


Minerva


Spare me nothing, I
want to feel

as you felt, see
what you saw

in that willow underneath
whose blooms you

lived, in that cliff
where you say

your love once dreamed,
in that deep

blue once feared
now your bringer of

joy.
 
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RiverNotch

Sanguine Bile, Troll and Boy
Loose Ends: Sketches on the Adventure Time Finale


Minerva's Ode

Spare me nothing, I
want to feel

as you felt, see
what you saw

in that willow underneath
whose blooms you

lived, in that cliff
where you say

your love once dreamed,
in that deep

blue once feared,
now your bringer of

joy.


Simon's Song

It is not the sky that separates us but
the field of stars that struggle to outshine
your fading image or your broadening image,

I cannot tell. I asked you once to return
and you said no --- or, in horror, I heard
your silence as a "no".


Margles' Lament

He smiles and all I feel
is envy that he should be
allowed his ending. Oh, it is
its own pleasure: what little
of me that remains remembers
what it is, to be alive ---
to not be outlaw even
in the eyes of the cosmos.


The Ballad of Finn and Billy

I asked milady not to build
a monument to my youth,
nor to my brother's ageless mirth
which even his bones prove,

but to shape us sober, as we are now,
each lesson a wrinkle, a scar,
a clump of white propelling its way
through the black earth of a wart ---

She answered me with silence.
And when on my dying days I saw
a sword strapped to my back,
I smiled:

she knew I had not grown at all.


Marcy's Song

Each moment feels like ages then
recollecting them fresh, each anecdote passes
eleven minutes long, a generation compressed
into nine, maybe ten, short seasons,
then the heart cools:

each moment becomes a note
in the grand melody of life
stuck to the staff,
lost friends and fathers and lovers
their voices, their colors, sucked out

so that when they return, as they always do,
each moment feels like ages again
while the weight grows
lighter, shorter, sweeter.


BMO's Lament

I miss you already

will be replaced with

I miss waiting for you

will be replaced with

I miss remembering you.
 

RiverNotch

Sanguine Bile, Troll and Boy
hunger 2: tragedy at the kennel

I don't want a woman with big breasts.
When our babes bite into her nips,
they might hurt so much
she eats them.

But whom am I to judge?
I like 'em young too.
 

RiverNotch

Sanguine Bile, Troll and Boy
Silence


To be righteous, one must take
Abraham's ritual knife and strip
away the gloves that mask one's trace,
the shirt that mocks at innocence,

the breasts that feed, the tongue that tastes
and, with its every word of praise
or soured satisfaction, breaks
the silence that is righteousness --

but all is forfeit should a drop
of Christian blood be spilled.
 

RiverNotch

Sanguine Bile, Troll and Boy
You've got nothing in particular.
You've got legs and a fair enough face.
You've got timing and good taste.
You've got brains,
or so everybody says.
You've got presence.

You cried like I cried.
Headboard, mattress, quilt,
I'm tired and miles away from home
and all I got to pay you for
is time. You take it,

you've got somewhere else to be.
Sunlight shoots through the western window
and you're Julie Christie smoking.
I'm Beatty in the snow.

You're all gussied up. I'm red all over.
You've got somewhere else to be
and someone else to meet.

The king is not fit for meat
and so is left by the side of the road
until summer.

A bear digs his claws into the carcass.
Belly full, he lies in a cave.

Thieves pour bronze down a deacon's throat.
Left for dead, he unties his bonds, stands up,
and prophesies the return of the Lord.

Snow falls in the church
like feathers---or floating maggots.
 
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RiverNotch

Sanguine Bile, Troll and Boy
Honey


The king is not fit for meat
and so is left by the side of the road
until summer.

A bear digs his claws into the carcass.
He returns to the cave of his mother and father
and lies as his family feasts.

Thieves pour bronze down a deacon's throat.
Left for dead, he unties his bonds, stands up,
and prophesies the return of the Lord.

"Out of the eater, something for meat..."
Snow falls in a church
like feathers -- or floating worms.
 

RiverNotch

Sanguine Bile, Troll and Boy
The End of the World


Creeks become rivers,
Rivers become straits,
Straits become seas,
Seas become oceans,

This narrow strip of land
We once called love
Will be swallowed by the heat,
We'll be swallowed by the heat.
 

RiverNotch

Sanguine Bile, Troll and Boy
hunger 3: runneth over


Red jelly drops
float on the glaze
of the lightly flooded driveway.

Catsup, compote, cold
like melting vanilla---

Mom's in shock.