Remember. Resurrect. A river
Taken under the rain’s
Right arm. Enter an R and everything rises,
Like cream, to the surface.
It’s the ornamental nature of the peacock
Letter. From its azure
Crest to its emerald
Throat to the Roman grandeur of its mirrored
Train—iridescence runneth over!
Red rover, red rover. And look! Regarde!
Our laureates rush over—
To write us a rhyme, a romance, or retraction,
To write an Rx for our grieving
Hearts: Turn words every morning like a bride
In your arms and repeat after me:
Resh. Ra. Roar. Rabbi. I am
Wronged. I am wrong. Dark.
Sorrow. Rare. Miracle. Adorable. Reaper. Raison
D’etre. We are
Irreparable. But what of it?
Therefore shall we labor
In the service of the R.
Therefore shall we practice
Such random acts of artifice as
The topiary, curlicue of orange
Rind, and other ethereal arrangements of the sort
Featured in Martha Stewart’s
Marathon pre-Christmas broadcast,
“An Undecorated Life is Not Worth Living.”
Pre-recorded in the recently renovated
Rooms of her rustic 18th century Vermont,
Paris, Prague, and Ozark farmhouses,
She credits Ezra Pound and his celebrated Modern
Maxim, “Make It New,”
For her own mantra: “Make It Yourself,
Make It Pretty, and Keep the Glue-gun Loaded.”
Despair prepared for is despair
Averted. The R knows that. As do charm,
Conjury, and all rarefied matters of inconsequence
I was formerly
Forever railing against. No longer.
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