Boudu [before being] Sauvé des Eaux


_____where you are meant to sink
_____far below bumbling bustles of bees
_____bumping into every body, which drone
_____wins this day’s drip of honey, chérie?

dans la fleuve,
_____filling in around, covering you
_____busy bourgeoisie, leave him alone—
_____he feels the weight of stones, sinking,
_____which is only a waterlogged coat

en bas,
_____the spectacle of drowning in which
_____working class forget their namesake,
_____the raison d’être, «stop production, Pierre;
_____We’ll witness suicide for which we long»

les eaux, lourd
_____drops of iron, splashing dumbells,
_____Heaving up, arms flailing fast-forward
_____semaphore shirtsleeves, now turning,
_____the banners reemerge as pant cuffs

comme sable,
_____heavy and sharp, dusting you in infinite
_____glass particles in this dull black and white—
_____not cliché, succinctly accurate in this kerfed
_____Renoir—slip away, lose breath, cusp the end

t’ont noyé
_____praying away your certain
_____redemption from



This poem was published in UIndy’s student literary journal, Etchings, Vol. 26.


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