Greg Rosenvinge

Laforgue’s ‘Night Poem’ in Day Lights

sugar and real stitch 
in the hushlight of a lamp - 
day, dying; worn sun

—– and i go on like i am something – i go on / like christmas – i go on
three feet – i go on / like my governor didn't tell me two and / just 
under is just enough – like my soles / are airless and my country is 
free —– i go / on like days are not prorogued and / are beautiful and 
counted – j'adore / mon amie– no acid on the tongue – / going on 
like a fragrance that blusters when / we do drift listless to sugar / —– or
merry are the winds that lay extraordinary —– i go on like i am not 
wording / in muscle memory – singing glass / from sand prose – to tunes / 
of melody I cannot transcribe / – suffice to say i do not remember / 
the sound of childhood's parading / – a semblance of provident play
grounds – drumroll towards you —– i go on like / i am not incoherent 
– like the words / carry the glass in us —– i argue with / us about soap 
and finance – and i / remember bell hooks' despair of true / love's absence
as willed in avoidance / – then forgetting it never undid the / worst in 
us – we do drift listless to / —– i go on – like a synapse mattering more / 
beyond our own senses – going on like / refuting door shut secular atoms
– / the night is cracked against a small / ether and my fingers are shaking – 
for / i go on like i am something —– i go on / to the days – the nights they 
bleed from – / apparitions of hushlight unshowing in sun – / or that i can 
no longer scratch my senses / – i am not a side street of deconstructive / 
eye training– breathing pretty and please —– i / beg i am not mother 
less – ferment– that things / do really matter —– / they really do live! —– / /
they really do live —– / / / and that is to say i go on like going on – if / 
going on is a fragrance that hides – going / on – as a wish that prosody - 
or little home / comforts – cannot fulfil —– or exhale breathily / – or how 
does one end this poem with – out going breathless / —– going on 
– and i go on like We am something – i go on / three feet– i go on 
onto the day – and kiss Us / —– feel the lips on two to grow feet –

— We says
we do drift

Greg Rosenvinge has been previously or is to be published in HVTN, Lighthouse and the 2018 Tower Poetry Summer School Anthology, as well as being shortlisted for the 2018 Terry Kelly Poetry Prize. He currently lives in Newcastle-upon-Tyne.