Taboo against the Word Beauty , Epistolary Version Riding the Chicago Loop, and: Taboo against the Word Beauty , Invocation, and: Taboo against the Word Beauty, Troubadourian Version

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Taboo against the Word Beauty, Epistolary Version Riding the Chicago Loop, and: Taboo against the Word Beauty, Invocation, and: Taboo against the Word Beauty, Troubadourian Version Allen Braden (bio) Taboo against the Word Beauty, Epistolary Version Riding the Chicago Loop Dear Kevin: The elevated train's not called "El" but "L"As in Lucky, Lonely, or Love. In a posh barBeauty kept reaching across her husbandTo stroke my arm. They'd been married [End Page 70] Long enough, he didn't mind or notice.No kidding about love on Dearborn either."Give with your heart, not your wallet."Seems everyone on the street has needs:Spare change, sponsor a child, hold me.One man shows me the scar on his face.A knife fight in prison. He knows I haveMercy. Anymore, he's that pane of glassDetached from Walgreens' windowsill.I look through it. Then step around. Take Good Care, Allen Taboo against the Word Beauty, Invocation Hear me O Muse! Dictate tricks of the trade: words rare as blue-hoofed mare or black-mouthed whelp. Prove that salt burns sweet, bruise preludes bliss, nettles the blistering kiss I'm mad for. Bite my tongue, nurse its wound with pine pitch. Psych!Dirty kneed and flirty, lick yourself clean, more or less a slutty possum dozing in my crawlspace. The Union Beautific nightly clobbering your possum lovers dumb.Take my hand and walk these tracks: no sublime marsupial heaven of endless pantries, no beauty sings. Slake this godforsaken thirst. Hold your breath. Your turn to play dead. [End Page 71] Taboo against the Word Beauty, Troubadourian Version Love is so short, forgetting is so long. —Pablo Neruda There ought to be a law against Henry. —Mr. Bones: there is. —John Berryman My life without your love: everywherethe chalk goes, something's left behind.On the other hand, antlers dropped by deerare loved down to nothing by porcupine.In spring, they say, a young man's fancy turnsto this. Meanwhile the swollen Green Riveruncovers record snow pack in the mountainsplus the latest fancy of a serial killer.Why test your notion of romance by limitationsto skin and bone? A lace of fascia warmas gentle love when flesh is splayed open.Disrobe and clothes forget their human form.I'd cinch a cord around your throat and takeyou from behind. I'd do it for beauty's sake. [End Page 72] Allen Braden Allen Braden has received fellowships from the nea and Artist Trust of Washington State. His book, A Wreath of Down and Drops of Blood, is forthcomingin the VQR poetry series from the University of Georgia Press. Copyright © 2008 University of Nebraska Press