Lothario

The black and white of it abuses.
Beached among the driftwood, Shelley’s
corpse strands—his clothes not caught by
fire—his flame doused by self and sea

Tar and white froth tie us to an ashen
claim of sorrow at the mean high tide
line of Genoa’s Gulf—a span forms
between the living carriage mourners
and the now sated temptress of sea.

Of it, death, most powerful and reticent
the banshee keens, no wife deigns to
kneel in prayer at lea while kites hawk
as foam merges with a hiss—kissed—up
on the embers hell borne—waves dismissed
this philanders soul to primal sea

Abuses—too many to notate bar a
just or unjust recalling of this bards earthly
place but ah Ozymandias where Shelley
foretells his own fate—the schooner
Don Juan, takes him down and raised
him bloated to his final resting place
righteous are the scavengers of Viareggio.


Deborah Guzzi is a healing facilitator, through touch & the written word. Her third book The Hurricane is available through Amazon, Prolific Press and at aleezadelta@aol.com. Her poetry appears in Journals & Literary Reviews in the UK, Canada, Australia, Hong Kong, Singapore, New Zealand, Greece, India & dozens in the USA.

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