by Timothy Donnelly

    Roll back the stone from the sepulchre's mouth！

    I sense disturbance¹ deep within， as if some sorcery

    had shocked the occupant's hand alive again， back

    to compose a document in calligraphy² so dragonish

    that a single misstep made it necessary to stop

    right then and there and tear the botched draft up，

    begin again and stop， tear up again and scatter³

    a squall of paper lozenges atop the architecture

    that the mind designs around it， assembling a city

    somewhat resembling the seaport⁴ of your birth，

    that blinking arrangement of towers and signage

    you now wander underneath⁵， drawn⁶ forward by the spell

    of the sea's one scent⁷， by the bell of the night ship

    that cleaves⁸ through the mist on its path to the pier⁹.

    Surrender to that vision and the labor¹⁰ apprehensible

    as you take to the streets from the refuge of a chair

    so emphatically comfortable even Lazarus himself

    would have chosen to remain unrisen from its velvet¹¹，

    baffling the messiah， His many onlookers¹² muttering

    awkwardly to themselves， downcast till a sudden

    dust devil spirals in from the dunes-a perfect excuse

    to duck back indoors. （The sand spangles their eyes，

    the little airborne stones impinge upon such faces

    as only Sorrow's pencil would ever dare to sketch¹³，

    and even then， it wouldn't be a cakewalk， you realize.

    A dust devil at sea would be called a waterspout.）

    You fear that you have been demanded into being

    only to be dropped on the wintry streets of this

    imagination rashly， left easy prey¹⁴ for the dockside

    phantoms¹⁵， unwatched and unawaited， and I know

    what you mean， almost exactly. This cardboard city

    collapses¹⁶ around us； another beautiful document

    disassembles into anguish-a cymbal-clap-and we can't

    prevent it. At one the wind rises， and the night ship

    trembles， drowsing back into its silver cloud. At two it embarks¹⁷

    upon a fiercer derangement¹⁸. We are in this together.

    And we will find protection only on the night ship.

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