Issue 31, Winter-Spring 1964
But if, after so many droning days,
You try to imagine a quiet country
Under the soft crush of the tide,
You’ll be deceived.
Leinbach discovered death does not exist.
At the last moment, when the undertow
Holds, and a pink foam
Bubbles inside your throat: when you are dragged and swirled
In a tight spiral, you will remember
A restless summer in Montclair,
Sunlight dying in a room.
The salty taste of damp arms and legs
And dry tears, words
Impossible to change
After a lifetime of dishonesty.
And this remembered life must have its own
Last moment which will be
Remembered, so that from last to last
As Leinbach showed you can approach death
But never reach it, never rest
Though you drown endlessly, never forget.
Things that are lost forever, never escape.