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 print previewback EDWARD MAYES
Gæð A Wyrd Swa Hio Scel
If you’re like  us, you’ve heard 
Through some  a.m. sunshine 
The  mourning doves do 
Their four woos  and have 
Wondered whether  they’ll ever 
Really get over  it. We’ve seen 
  The summer air  pleated 
  And plaited,  shadows of leaves 
  Waver with our  slight shadows, 
  Not cumbersome  to carry, but 
Dim rarities,  burned for a moment 
  Onto a wall, a  street, a grave, 
  Or water  whirlpooling, taking 
  Everything down  with it. 
  We’ve watched  our eyes turn 
Riverine,  plangent as a dusty 
  Plane tree that  shades empty 
  Dusty cars in  the piazza. 
  When we’ve  driven that stretch 
  Of road all the  way 
To The  Calamities, when 
  The fado from  the café in Lisbon 
  Is carried out  in our hems 
  And turned-up  cuffs, when 
  The handsome  foursome we saw 
Rollicking, we  might know to let 
  Our hands be  guided by something 
  We are not. If  the tomb cracks 
  Open like a  skull, if the someone 
  Walking down the  road is really 
Someone else, if  the wander 
  Gets us the  rave, if the interrogation 
  Really is all  about some great 
  Fright we had at  two this 
  Morning,  something we’ll try 
To remember as  something important, 
  Something to  carry in the clitellum, 
  If we had one. Go so quickly 
  Went to gone. Brisk hearing,
  The suddenness  of seeing 
Something seen  only once, 
  Or feeling a  whistle, some 
  Instinctual  pitch, a patch 
  Where water will  stand, and 
  We’ll step over  it, umbrella 
People that  we’ve become. 
  If we steer with  one hand 
  What, pray tell,  do we do 
  With the other,  not the deep 
  Breath we  mistake for 
Mourning  something but 
  Something we  remember, 
  Something that  could be flat-
  Out wrong, a  whisper this is wrong, 
  This isn’t how  it was supposed to be.
Wyrd, “fate goes ever as she shall,” Beowulf; Warsaw, saw war, Warsaw was  raw; cliticize, unstressed word, “I see ’em”; clitellum/a, packsaddle,  homologous, proclitic; beyond the pale, pale/palisade; little, pray tell, the  mantis isn’t praying/preying; freezer burn, calamities, witness, nest, knock;  another, nut, nuther, him, mien, dim, rare, rarity; complaint, plaintive,  plantain, deplane; rarities, something rare, wander and rave, rove; fulsome,  chromosome, cumbersome, foursome, handsome; lissome, lithesome, rollick;  riverine, “fated sky,” “the book of fate”; pleated air, plangent, plaited;  fable, fabliau, fado, fairy,  fandango, fantoccini, puppet, infant;  prophet, fantods; mourn: to remember sorrowfully; flat and flatter; let my hand  be guided by something I am not  
     Benders of Past Glory at the Blankety-Blank Bar
     Gæð A Wyrd Swa Hio Scel
     Revanche, or
Passing for Twenty-One
 













