Atlantis
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Atlantis

Mark Doty

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  1. 112 pages
  2. English
  3. ePUB (mobile friendly)
  4. Available on iOS & Android
eBook - ePub

Atlantis

Mark Doty

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About This Book

The poignant, accomplished new collection of poetry from the author of My Alexandria --1993 winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award, Los Angeles Times Book Award, 1993 National Book Award Finalist.

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Information

Year
2009
ISBN
9780061967863
Subtopic
Poesia

Atlantis

1. FAITH
ā€œIā€™ve been having these
awful dreams, each a little different,
though the coreā€™s the sameā€”
weā€™re walking in a field,
Wally and Arden and I, a stretch of grass
with a highway running beside it,
or a path in the woods that opens
onto a road. Everythingā€™s fine,
then the dog sprints ahead of us,
excited; weā€™re calling but
heā€™s racing down a scent and doesnā€™t hear us,
and thatā€™s when he goes
onto the highway. I donā€™t want to describe it.
Sometimes itā€™s brutal and over,
and others heā€™s struck and takes off
so we donā€™t know where he is
or how bad. This wakes me
every night now, and I stay awake;
Iā€™m afraid if I sleep Iā€™ll go back
into the dream. Itā€™s been six months,
almost exactly, since the doctor wrote
not even a real word
but an acronym, a vacant
four-letter cipher
that draws meanings into itself,
reconstitutes the world.
We tried to say it was just
a word; we tried to admit
it had power and thus to nullify it
by means of our acknowledgement.
I know the current wisdom:
bright hope, the power of wishing youā€™re well.
Heā€™s just so tired, though nothing
shows in any tests, Nothing,
the doctor says, detectable;
the doctor doesnā€™t hear what I do,
that trickling, steadily rising nothing
that makes him sleep all day,
vanish into feverā€™s tranced afternoons,
and I swear sometimes
when I put my head to his chest
I can hear the virus humming
like a refrigerator.
Which is what makes me think
you can take your positive attitude
and go straight to hell.
We donā€™t have a future,
we have a dog.
Who is he?
Soul without speech,
sheer, tireless faith,
he is that-which-goes-forward,
black muzzle, black paws
scouting whatā€™s ahead;
he is where weā€™ll be hit first,
heā€™s the part of us
thatā€™s going to get it.
Iā€™m hardly awake on our morning walk
ā€”always just me and Arden nowā€”
and sometimes I am still
in the thrall of the dream,
which is why, when he took a step onto Commercial
before Iā€™d looked both ways,
I screamed his name and grabbed his collar.
And there I was on my knees,
both arms around his neck
and nothing coming,
and when I looked into that bewildered face
I realized I didnā€™t know what it was
I was shouting at,
I didnā€™t know who I was trying to protect.ā€
2. REPRIEVE
I woke in the night
and thought, It was a dream,
nothing has torn the future apart,
we have not lived years
in dread, it never happened,
I dreamed it all. And then
there was this sensation of terrific pressure
lifting, as if I were rising
in one of those old diving bells,
lightening, unburdening. I didnā€™t know
how heavy my life had becomeā€”so much fear,
so little...

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