Into the Dusk
‘A Wassail in Ink’ by Nicholas Christian takes us on a brief but sweeping journey through history, geography, and literature. And though the last line might leave us guessing, there’s no question that this poem is a celebration of worlds — and words.
We are delighted to share the poem with you here, from Issue 15, Summer 2017, on sale now for just $8!
A Wassail in Ink
And this is its beginning: a Vietnamese Ocean;
the bottom rim stiff with starch grinding like rough glass
against an old belt buckle, eyes sweeping and moving
in rhythm through the dark of a stone spiral street.
And there the cavalier waited, iron-red mouth brushing
your waist and Avery Colt laughed into beer
before the night church of Kansas knew even spoiled honey
is sweet in black stilettos under sconces of electric tallow.
Our canoe was carved for sinking, certain your wet shoes remember
walking into the dusk of gun-fire tasting the vanilla whorl of water lilies.
And some braveries are old tears stranded and hungry
on island sand, and words taken by the wind return possessions
in the rain, grown thick and resonant as stretching pelicans —
we’ve landed on Bluebeard’s birch table, sure in opening one more door
the joys of hearing Rumi ask what have I ever lost by dying?
What choice but to sentence shining with fat our piles of bones
to the burning wood; now there is space for the tapestry of your back
to fit my hand — learning language through the body
set so close to the future there is only the dance of it.
Which is all to say: these places are maps black from all this spilled ink
collecting in my cup full of little crows I’ve brought to your lips,
meaning nothing more than we are seven words written when not looking.
Check out an alternative version of this poem. And for more from Issue 15, Summer 2017, pick up your copy, ON SALE now for just $8!
Nicholas Christian’s poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in The Lindenwood Review, Off the Coast, Poetry Quarterly, Gravel, Dămfīno, and Panoply. His work explores the significance of world mythology and initiatory rites, and further what it means to live in a modern place and age where they are sorely needed while frequently absent. He lives in St Louis with his stuffed sea lion Gerald and his coyote Loki that thinks it’s a cat.
Leave a Reply