Sherry, & X Overseas

They had in common O & rum-&-coke
(hers) & blackberry brandy (shudder, his)
& a sullen selfhood; and no more O.
She sought a how to put the message O
that what had not been might gnash to its end.
She came to me to sing upon this theme,
but a sorry declarative sentence was all my do.
No altitude! no depth of loss! Only
a vexed impulse of half-contempt despite
my fondness toward her strong that this one hope
in all her all but thirty years that this
the surfaced thing should fizzle.
Daughter, it was not yours; of whom I’ve seen
only truly to love one spasm of courage.
Your living must alter, nightly I pray.
Apathy toward Limbo
volcanic made this once, of which you said
afterward you felt silly: ah you were wrong,
awarding your being nothing, as usual.
I’ll dare my utter all for you. For me.
Our Lord descend again on you. I at first light wish & now at 3 A.M. sober I beg.
My dear, you too must bow down, unthinkable stance,
& give up, & summon to you blindly trust, & pray.
He always hears. Even I, in my degree,
hear what you cannot say.