by phillipw | Dec 22, 2019 | RI, VE
Therapy What herbal dram can doctors give for love? L’amour refuses treatment, runs its course. If you trip this marathon runner, shove, Impose a faltering stumble, she will force Her staggering legs to jolt along. If you Slash love’s wrists...
by phillipw | Dec 19, 2019 | GA, Ho, LO, RI, VE
Letter to his Wife They suffered from a passion like their loins Ripped open, full of pain, and gushing life Out like the plastic chips, the bastard coins (More costly than the infant Paul or wife) From this combined Las Vegas slot-machine Affair. The older...
by phillipw | Dec 17, 2019 | RI
10, rue de Buci The naked Rimbaud liked to show his prick To chambermaids across the rue. He peeled His clothes off and bestrode the roof, his thick Hair being his complete attire, a field Above is scalp, a thick patch down below. An outfit “mythological” is...
by phillipw | Dec 16, 2019 | AR, RI
The Thorn of Thought “It is the thorn of thought,” young Rimbaud said To Izambard—other underlings, too. The prodigy was bleeding from his head, But not just blood. Black tercets flowed, a brew Intoxicating and enough to float A drunken boat, and verses full...
by phillipw | Dec 16, 2019 | RI, VE
A Very Bulldog Welcome The day Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine arrived Together, London was in lovely light. At least it should have been. The sun, deprived Of autumn glory, cringed from urban blight. The coal-fire chimneys’ vileness forced Verlaine To write,...
by phillipw | Dec 15, 2019 | AR, BA, DE, RI
The Months of Love On May 24, 1870, Rimbaud wrote a letter from Charleville to Théodore de Banville, leader of a group of poets in Paris. Maybe each intense blueness is eternal, even if only for the season of love. “Dear Master, We are in the months of love And...
