Door in the Mountain: New and Collected Poems, 1965-2003

To the Black Madonna of Chartres

(We too, although we live on a certain street, have certain jobs, we too, we were the Neverhere.) Snow Family Snow family: big snow father, coal eyes, coal teeth, small snow mother, no mouth, smaller and smaller snow daughters, and over them, a red felt banner: i like my women’s voices soft. And who were the child wife, husband, Mother Father? King Queen? Brother? Never to know. The snow streamed upward into the scree . . . To the Black Madonna of Chartres Friend or no friend, darkness or light, vowels or consonants, water or dry land, 224 door in the mountain anything more from you now is just gravy —just send me down forgiveness, send me down bearing myself a black cupful of light. Tell Me, What Is the Soul There is a prison room, the floor, cement, in the middle of the room a black pool full of black water. It leads to an invisible canal. Plunder is the pool. Plunder is the canal. By the wall, by a fire, Mandelstam was reciting, in his yellow leather coat, the criminals were listening, they offered him bread and the canned stuff, which he took . . . Mastectomy for Maura They used to make a new breast for you —no you made it: for who, for who— with a bag of birdseed. What happened to your breast? No good to eat, growing darkness, growing light 225 ...