{"id":1900,"date":"2012-10-23T02:14:17","date_gmt":"2012-10-23T02:14:17","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=1900"},"modified":"2012-10-23T02:14:18","modified_gmt":"2012-10-23T02:14:18","slug":"eszter-takacs-1012","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/eszter-takacs-1012\/","title":{"rendered":"Eszter Takacs, 10\/12"},"content":{"rendered":"

August flies by in five minutes.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Saw tooth days, each a spine inside a sapling.
\nWhen you arrive, it is misery.<\/p>\n

When you arrive, everybody talks about everything else
\nsimply to avoid the misgivings of honesty.<\/p>\n

Here today, you will have died by nightfall.
\nOval shaped mercury moves through your veins,<\/p>\n

little separated crafts housing the minutes
\nbefore lift off, which in your case is death.<\/p>\n

Morgan Stanley is something on the television,
\na commercial for money that has already been spent.<\/p>\n

The kids, teenagers now, begin a new phase:
\nRorschach Art as a flag for unity.<\/p>\n

They hang everywhere, like sweat off a life gone south.
\nWhat does this remind you of? We are here and that\u2019s that.<\/p>\n

\u2026<\/p>\n

In the next phase of the building sequence,
\nbrick and mortar, plot to plot, as it thickens,<\/p>\n

we decide to procure a garden of truffles
\nto be hidden by a garden of tiny new beings.<\/p>\n

These are your fingers, as they fall in the dirt.
\nEach has new meaning. Each blooms with vigor.<\/p>\n

We listen to new jazz, a surrealist trumpet on the radio
\nand the sound is ruffled with the distance<\/p>\n

between us and the city, the halo of marked roads.
\nYou have lost your breath along the way,<\/p>\n

and we wonder about the morning.
\nWe paint your face gold without shortage of color.<\/p>\n

You become a kaleidoscope and we are envious
\nof your hesitation as we turn you over in our mouths.<\/p>\n

\u2026<\/p>\n

The days begin to clasp and fasten together,
\nimpossible Earth sinking agile to the lake floor<\/p>\n

and I make a promise to starve you
\nif you enter me and sink to my bottom,<\/p>\n

innards leaning to this embryonic statue.
\nThe newspaper is something new to this stage,<\/p>\n

nothing we have understood, its lines ridged
\nand scallion scented leaves arched in your hands.<\/p>\n

You wave hello but nobody understands you.
\nThe sheets have wilted in your hands by morning,<\/p>\n

bending because we have left you on the porch
\nand sometime during the night, August rained.<\/p>\n

Two thoughts occurred simultaneously on your face
\nand we turn on the television to hear them.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

August flies by in five minutes. Saw tooth days, each a spine inside a sapling. When you arrive, it is misery. When you arrive, everybody talks about everything else simply to avoid the misgivings of honesty. Here today, you will have died by nightfall. Oval shaped mercury moves through your veins, little separated crafts housing […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1900","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nEszter Takacs, 10\/12 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/eszter-takacs-1012\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Eszter Takacs, 10\/12 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"August flies by in five minutes. Saw tooth days, each a spine inside a sapling. When you arrive, it is misery. 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