Poem by Mebane Robertson

DESTINATION

The city swallowed me whole like a long, squiggly bait,
Though I tell less than the truth very often.
My professors complain of this, my syntax.
My artist friends say different things depending.
Lately, I dream of silk: black silk
Tied around my eyes, and being led somewhere:
To a hellova party where I am always just arriving,
And, being blinded, I stumble and fall
Like a long ash into some stranger’s drink,
Like counting back from a hundred under chloroform,
Like ether dripping on my scalp, whispering goodnight.