Kevin Young
May 2003

Litany


The dirt grows up
around us, dear,
the dank & the way down

of it. The day.
Once I was
in love. Once I would not say

or could not, the under
that awaits.
Today, I say over

your one name,
sound
that sole gravity.

———

The old draw
bridge, rusted, is always up

———

North, New
London—we cross
ourselves & the river

into the past—
the submarine
memorial for those lost

at sea, sunk
miles under—the docks dry—
the rust & mist

———

Count me among the missing

———

The apples
have not kept

their promises,
grown rotten

& ran, skins
bled into brown

———

I come to your town
fog clinging to bridges
to the baring branches

———

In the calamitous city
in the songs & sinners
among the thousand throngs

I barter & belong. Out
of the coward’s tooth
& arms of ocean

out of sheer
contrariness
I continue. Keep watch.

———

Hunger has me
by the belly

———

Why does the waiting
scare you & me
the silence that surrounds

it, us, this life—

I am inside this
stone you call
a city. I am king

of the gypsies.

Thin throne air.
No crown to speak of.
My body

dying, divine.

———

The day will, I know,
come—not now—
but soon & they will say

you are gone

Will I know it by
the lack of breath
—mine—the long grief
in the trees

Or will it be you
they tell of me—sickened,
stiffened, through.
Do not

worry. Will be
me beside the foot
of your bed, nothing

haunting, just
a hint. A wish.
Think

of me & breathe!
say over
again my many

my million names.

from Jelly Roll: A Blues, Knopf, 2003.