The statues are eyeless in Iveagh,
ruins under leafed eaves,
effaced, pitted, blotted,
benighted green and wet:
they have heard far more love
than mine and hers, witnessed
others filled with beer, wine,
& whiskey. Forbidden fruit
rots on the branch. Magpies gather
by blue knees, curious and hopeful.
Crimes of the heart were committed
on that night. The sound of the river
sinewed through the cracked window.
The past was father of the present,
the sheets were stained sails.
Coffee was brewing in the evening,
corks rolled into corners,
whiskey emptied the memory.
Now it's years, years later:
I just walked on water,
the river would not collapse beneath me.
A friend sent me neon letters,
rain is due tomorrow,
and the kittens are restless.
I open a bottle. My lovely neighbor
is building a mirror before dinner,
she borrows a screwdriver.
I am guilty of everything you said.
I am guilty: but there is no jury
who would ever convict.