Project Apollo
I was the poolboy but it was billiards
I got up on the table with a feather duster
and did a little dance like the honeybee
I was the poolboy but it was billiards
I got up on the table with a feather duster
and did a little dance like the honeybee
play a little music on the rooftop
get a body good and wet
“This poem began as a silence of wishing. As one does when falling silent.”
One of the pleasures of reading a great poem over time is the way its meanings establish themselves (like the “trees of heaven” that reclaim the space of “quarrels and shattered glass”) and grow sturdier, larger. I first read Robert Hayden…