09-07-2021, 10:14 AM
I heard the horn
in the dusk. It came from
down by the river.
How Molloy got there I don’t know.
His legs have stiffened,
he can only crawl,
but I heard it, twice.
Yet why would he who abhors succor
from man or angel or even dog,
honk his bicycle horn?
Unless it was to acknowledge
that he resonates distress.
Yet, the act of pulling forth
from his greatcoat, while flat on his face
on the bank or sinking slowly
beneath the river surface,
his little horn to give it a final toot,
would show he already knew
no one would listen.
Well, yes, that fits Molloy.
What he crawled into
he can crawl out of,
that would be a syncretic response.
He wouldn’t want it
any other way.
in the dusk. It came from
down by the river.
How Molloy got there I don’t know.
His legs have stiffened,
he can only crawl,
but I heard it, twice.
Yet why would he who abhors succor
from man or angel or even dog,
honk his bicycle horn?
Unless it was to acknowledge
that he resonates distress.
Yet, the act of pulling forth
from his greatcoat, while flat on his face
on the bank or sinking slowly
beneath the river surface,
his little horn to give it a final toot,
would show he already knew
no one would listen.
Well, yes, that fits Molloy.
What he crawled into
he can crawl out of,
that would be a syncretic response.
He wouldn’t want it
any other way.