This poem carries the afterglow of reprieve for the woman who couldn't ignore the song of the whipporwill for the sake of a well-oiled family dinner. I have been guilty of many crimes and misdemeanors against the supposed-to-be orders that be. A beautiful love poem honoring the soul of a particular woman-wife rather than the accomplishments of a wife-who-just-so-happens-to-be-a-woman.
LOVE POEM by John Frederick Nims
My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,
At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,
Whose palms are bulls in china, burs in linen,
And have no cunning with any soft thing
Except all ill-at-ease fidgeting people:
The refugee uncertain at the door
You make at home; deftly you steady
The drunk clambering on his undulant floor.
Unpredictable dear, the taxi drivers' terror,
Shrinking from far headlights pale as a dime
Yet leaping before apopleptic streetcars—
Misfit in any space. And never on time.
A wrench in clocks and the solar system. Only
With words and people and love you move at ease;
In traffic of wit expertly maneuver
And keep us, all devotion, at your knees.
Forgetting your coffee spreading on our flannel,
Your lipstick grinning on our coat,
So gaily in love's unbreakable heaven
Our souls on glory of spilt bourbon float.
Be with me, darling, early and late. Smash glasses—
I will study wry music for your sake.
For should your hands drop white and empty
All the toys of the world would break.
Love led me to make an audio recording of this poem so I can play it in the car and ponder it as I drive around town. You can listen and download the audio mp3 below.
as read by Alina with Bon Iver and traffic in the background
