In the Third Sleep

Alexander Hollenberg

(after Kay Sage)

 

I have asked the nation to return to me

my mother’s handkerchief 

but it has built me an aircraft carrier. 

 

You should not write poems

about your mother’s handkerchief

says the nation—take this aircraft carrier

 

instead. It is smooth and grey and clean

and one day you’ll feel nostalgic

for engine oil in your nostrils.

 

It is useless to think of handkerchiefs, 

says the nation, useless to think

of mothers with dress pockets

 

full of soft, phlegmy fabric. As if what?

As if waiting to be of use is enough? 

There is no such thing as enough.

 

On that we can agree. Not enough

ocean, not enough sky, not enough

ways to write about a war.

 

I have asked the nation for an aircraft carrier

to bring me my mother’s handkerchief.

There is no other reason for aircraft carriers.