So Long, Cy

(after Cy Twombly)

So long
long so sigh
in all fours
solo slitherer

C E R B E R U S  C H A L K B O A R D

muddy sneakers
polished floor
a long slide

[home? no, we’re not there, i’m not there, still in school, in front of the blackboard,
writing a hundred times, get it right, godammit, this shouldn’t be hard, maybe i’m already
in hades, can’t get out, can’t outsmart teacher—bitch-breathed, serpent-ended,
omnispective and soulless.]

so long
past a steady keeper’s hand:
a wedding band
and regal sheets

[virgin sheets? are they ever? tabula rasa? or always/already written? is the task to
discover what’s already there or to rewrite the new? do we black out the purity when we
write or do we make a human space in the perfect void?]

Y O U N G  C Y

whose balls bounced
through marble halls
danced tumblers
of liquid yellow
a squirt
in discerning eye
cyclopean circles
in jagged staggers
on sober frames
time, Cy
and memory

[but whose? the greeks and romans are names only, scratched in the sand on the edge of
the sea, your paint does not reach them, nor carry me there, it keeps me here in the
everpresent of a child’s scrawl, not even a barbaric yawp but the glee of a kid playing in his
own shit—without the glee—i’m an adult godammit, too big for this chair, can’t find my
locker, books gone 100 times 100 times]

in the crust
of profligate paint
neither Dionysus
nor Apollo
but a cerulean flow
past pallid crowds
and yawning guards

D O  N O T  T O U C H

but you married the Baroness
shat cadmium lire notes
no question of mess
taste for waste
but time, Cy
and so memory
long scuffed
the edge of a sneaker
into first


Contributor’s Notes: Mark Kerstetter steals time away from restoring an old house in Florida to write poems and stories and to make art out of salvaged wood. Please visit him at