On Acceptance
#1
On Acceptance

And nights I dream of violence, huge erect machetes
kissing down my neck. You know the poet Anne Carson

snores louder than Minerva? Eros and/or Eris sings
instructions to the dagger hung above Anne Carson’s

skull, she is stoic in the deathroom. When my marriage
atrophied, they removed the heart to show Anne Carson

what decay can really do (Greeks are sluts for mulch). God
maintains a healthy distance from Anne Carson’s garden,

being such a modern girl. It’s all He can do to not
reach down and pluck cymbidiums. I read Anne Carson

in your voice, a rumble in my gut pronouncing
what the tongue can't handle: this morning, betrayal, Anne

Carson’s one poem set in Venice. Oh, you Bridge of Sighs—
it seems a man escaped at night, left one Anne Carson

holding Dido’s bag. In Carthage, a beautiful boy
kisses first, then asks my name. I tell him Anne Carson

and he giggles, holds up a wriggling fish. Do it like
we do it, Luke, he urges. Eat the sucker whole.
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#2
(08-20-2026, 12:18 PM)matsunosuperfan Wrote:  On Acceptance

And nights I dream of violence, huge erect machetes
kissing down my neck. You know the poet Anne Carson

snores louder than Minerva? Eros and/or Eris sings
instructions to the dagger hung above Anne Carson’s

skull, she is stoic in the deathroom. When my marriage
atrophied, they removed the heart to show Anne Carson

what decay can really do (Greeks are sluts for mulch). God
maintains a healthy distance from Anne Carson’s garden,

being such a modern girl. It’s all He can do to not
reach down and pluck cymbidiums. I read Anne Carson

in your voice, a rumble in my gut pronouncing
what the tongue can't handle: this morning, betrayal, Anne

Carson’s one poem set in Venice. Oh, you Bridge of Sighs—
it seems a man escaped at night, left one Anne Carson

holding Dido’s bag. In Carthage, a beautiful boy
kisses first, then asks my name. I tell him Anne Carson

and he giggles, holds up a wriggling fish. Do it like
we do it, Luke, he urges. Eat the sucker whole.

I hate to admit that I have no clue what the poem references, because Anne Carson seems like an incredibly interesting poet! However, I still enjoyed reading this work, your structure takes the reader on such a fun journey with their eyes and their ears. I think my favorite line of this whole piece is your opening sentences, "At night I dream of violence, huge erect machetes/kissing down my neck." At least for me it reminds me of the cliche about dreaming about lovers at night while being about something completely different. The contrast is so much fun. Thank you for sharing!
Reply
#3
(Yesterday, 10:06 AM)ouroboros Wrote:  
(08-20-2026, 12:18 PM)matsunosuperfan Wrote:  On Acceptance

And nights I dream of violence, huge erect machetes
kissing down my neck. You know the poet Anne Carson

snores louder than Minerva? Eros and/or Eris sings
instructions to the dagger hung above Anne Carson’s

skull, she is stoic in the deathroom. When my marriage
atrophied, they removed the heart to show Anne Carson

what decay can really do (Greeks are sluts for mulch). God
maintains a healthy distance from Anne Carson’s garden,

being such a modern girl. It’s all He can do to not
reach down and pluck cymbidiums. I read Anne Carson

in your voice, a rumble in my gut pronouncing
what the tongue can't handle: this morning, betrayal, Anne

Carson’s one poem set in Venice. Oh, you Bridge of Sighs—
it seems a man escaped at night, left one Anne Carson

holding Dido’s bag. In Carthage, a beautiful boy
kisses first, then asks my name. I tell him Anne Carson

and he giggles, holds up a wriggling fish. Do it like
we do it, Luke, he urges. Eat the sucker whole.

I hate to admit that I have no clue what the poem references, because Anne Carson seems like an incredibly interesting poet! However, I still enjoyed reading this work, your structure takes the reader on such a fun journey with their eyes and their ears. I think my favorite line of this whole piece is your opening sentences, "At night I dream of violence, huge erect machetes/kissing down my neck." At least for me it reminds me of the cliche about dreaming about lovers at night while being about something completely different. The contrast is so much fun. Thank you for sharing!

Thank you so much for reading! The ostensible form is "ghazal" so there should not really be a narrative through line, but hopefully the individual strophes create some associative energy. I'm glad you liked the machetes line <3
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