A Long Time Ago

A LONG TIME AGO


I recall that sometime during our attempt
at communication, during our performance
of a discourse--during our presentation
of soliloquies that you changed from a nymph
into a dutiful daughter. At the time, I wanted
to be your lover, not your father. It was
a long time ago, although I am not sure what
time is. I was pontificating, trying to
pretend I was not a nihilist and actually
believed something. It was a long time ago.
I talked because I wanted to become aware
of what others had spoken into me. I was
instructing you on how to become a mistress
in our postmodern age. Never offer to a married
man who has been in a hundred different acrobatic
positions your body, but offer him something
he does not receive at home--love. It was
a long time ago. I was a formalist then
because I did not have anything to say.
I still don't have anything to say, but
the difference is that the formalist fools
himself into thinking he has something to
say. Perhaps, I'm fooling myself in thinking
that I have nothing to say. Nothing can be said.


Duane Locke

Posted over on American Poetry Review