Richard Hugo is my favoritest <3
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Richard Hugo = LOVE. Just saying.
Ness - by Richard Hugo
This is where those who hate monuments
pay last disrespects to the world. They've wrecked art,
cities, the language passed woman to man and back.
They've destroyed personal records, birth, school, marriage
and divorce. With luck they'll board a final ship
that flies a flag no color on earth.
They'll bribe the captain to destroy the record of death.
For them the horizon is a pass.
Beyond it the glamour and thrill of ignorant waste.
And I'll be one of them, no shame. I'll tear every poem
and toss lines in tatters to that great God, wind.
I'll leave laughing. Everything ends here: life,
hope, civilization, love, loneliness and regret. The end
promised children. The world on medieval maps
that drops off blue for water into white for void.
I'll give up whatever's hard, saying the plural of ghost,
the singular of girls.
I'll shed my life and sail counter to breakers.
The ship will tire far out and lose stroke and start back
in the wash. On my way home I'll dream it again,
something like history even if wrong, starting with sun
and coming down the ages, unclassified tooth
to computer, star to diamond and back. If you find me
broken and babbling on rock, listen very hard.
The tongue may be dated. If you pick up a phrase
you can match it with words on that scrap of paper.
You found it in Wind. You don't worship wind any more.
.
Richard Hugo = LOVE. Just saying.
Ness - by Richard Hugo
This is where those who hate monuments
pay last disrespects to the world. They've wrecked art,
cities, the language passed woman to man and back.
They've destroyed personal records, birth, school, marriage
and divorce. With luck they'll board a final ship
that flies a flag no color on earth.
They'll bribe the captain to destroy the record of death.
For them the horizon is a pass.
Beyond it the glamour and thrill of ignorant waste.
And I'll be one of them, no shame. I'll tear every poem
and toss lines in tatters to that great God, wind.
I'll leave laughing. Everything ends here: life,
hope, civilization, love, loneliness and regret. The end
promised children. The world on medieval maps
that drops off blue for water into white for void.
I'll give up whatever's hard, saying the plural of ghost,
the singular of girls.
I'll shed my life and sail counter to breakers.
The ship will tire far out and lose stroke and start back
in the wash. On my way home I'll dream it again,
something like history even if wrong, starting with sun
and coming down the ages, unclassified tooth
to computer, star to diamond and back. If you find me
broken and babbling on rock, listen very hard.
The tongue may be dated. If you pick up a phrase
you can match it with words on that scrap of paper.
You found it in Wind. You don't worship wind any more.
.