July 27, 2021

the nightshades

by Carling Berkhout

i would prefer to –
and i speak like a child
as i say so –
believe in fate
and i ask you –
i speak like a child as i ask –
have you ever heard a house whisper innuendoes?

in the victorian
at the end of the cul-de-sac
i cry out the oriel window to November
the horizon moth-eaten,
threadbare,
the sky raw meat

the evening threatens,
crickets chirp
goose-fleshed crickets
crickets pushing up daisies

we buried him alive
by the tulip garden
and the nightshades,
oh!
the nightshades
what a beautiful way to go
to go, what a beautiful
way,
with the nightshades

and be honest now,
be honest with me