et mentem mortalia tangunt (about)

(loosely, “these things mortal touch the soul.” The full line is from Vergil (Aeneid, I, 462), btw: ’sunt lacrimae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt,’ “these are the tears of things, and the stuff of our mortality cuts us to the heart.”)

from the tongue of the asp

I have my father’s vices
and some days his eyes.

From my mother I learned a love of words,

but the language in which I sing the world
is my own,
derived symmetric and pure
from a single blade of grass.

I have spent much time
running from one shadow
or another, and I hate
the way my legs feel
unshaven.

I tend to get lost easily

but I like to chase after things:
impossibility, heartache,
waterfowl.

And though I confess that
most days I don’t remember
what love is,

I still profess myself
a romantic,
singer at the end of an age.

Welcome to The Tenth Muse. What is here is is chiefly my own (previously unpublished) poetry, but if you’ll  look closely you can also find other excursions (like mixed media and photography), as well as some non-English works from other authors. Feel free to check out anything that grabs your fancy, but please bear in mind that all work (unless otherwise specified) is the work of the author, and, if reproduced, credit should be given as such. Thanks.

–jsl