Rimbaud in America

Fever in the knees
gold in the belly


and-almost forgot-
the varicose veins:


so you arrive
drenched to the bone


by the salt of Abyssinia.
Deep inside, a desire


to be ever departing
as if poetry were


-horror at solid ground-
the edge


of an absolute coast.
But there are reefs along the shore


and shark teeth
on the high sea.


Beyond that,
it's impossible to predict


when the spirit-
blessed


or maligned-
will speak.


For this, swallow the stones
you brought in your pocket.


Here you will have to begin again.