What Use is Hydroquinone in a Vacuum?
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
Imagine for yourself the beauty of
The dead. A man once loved in wonder now
Is lost because no photos in his love
Exist. Biographers have searched for brow,
His eyes and eyelids, lashes, shoulders, nose
But no one snapped them, no, not one small smile
And they are lost to everyone. Suppose
That Christ contains them somewhere in the while
Of vast eternity. So what? If held
In some celestial darkroom, where is that?
Besides, they would not tell us how he smelled
Or had the morals of an alley cat.
Then never mind the women lost in lack
