Sharon Dolin

The Loneliness of His Death
January 24, 2019 Dolin Sharon

The loneliness of his death, the death of his loneliness
—Yehuda Amichai

 

I like to think there’s a place where all the poets go
who died too young. They’re lounging together on
rattan chairs like those in Limbo—the suicides,

the cancer-riven, the bulleted—sharing lines &
demitasses of absinthe espresso. Now that nothing
is forbidden, they talk freely of their lives below:

how this one would have remarried, that one would have
shot him instead. They hear their lines repeated backwards
to them, garbled as through a barrel of water:

I loved him to death / He was the death of my love.
To roam on rooftops occurred to me / O the ochre rooftops of Rome.
Here they pair up and imagine alternate deaths, alternate lives.

She takes his hand and they jump from the hood of one cloud
to the next, compressing their spirit-bones that won’t break.
Arriving in slow procession all afternoon: the poems

they had no time to write. A lion pads over to scratch the lines
of his extinction in the dirt. A man whose saffron chest ribs
form a body-harp invites her to thrum her song through him:

O time of my despair, in my next life may I be spared by time.

Sharon Dolin is the author of seven books of poetry, most recently Imperfect Present (University of Pittsburgh Press2022)a prose memoir Hitchcock Blonde (Terra Nova Press, 2020); and two books of translation from Catalan, most recently Late to the House of Words: Selected Poems by Gemma Gorga (Saturnalia Books, 2021), winner of Saturnalia Books Malinda A. Markham Translation Prize and a Finalist for the 2022 Griffin Poetry Prize. The recipient of an NEA Fellowship, Fulbright Scholarship, AWP Donald Hall Prize, Pushcart Prize, and Witter Bynner Fellowship, Dolin is Associate Editor of Barrow Street Press and teaches poetry workshops in New York City. https://sharondolin.com