The Maynard
Fall 2017

Taurus
             -after looking at Remedios Varo’s painting

What delirious dream drew your yellow figure, winged bull,
feminine face, horse legs, sad look and mustache you rise
lost in self-created limbo, expelled from your house, the second
in the zodiacal path, away from your earth element, you cross
with visible resignation the constellations of the canvas and there
is not enough space for you in catalogs and scholarly classifications
there are no phrases that translate your drama using other phrases
because the astral loneliness that you inhabit is only yours
you come to me with an ignited arrow narrowly missing my eyes
you come from the pit of the past, a dark bird carrying charcoal
wounds in its beak, you talk to me about the internal scorch that
crying leaves, the tedium that engulfs us for several days making it
impossible to speak to others the links found between the departure
of the man I loved (also Taurus) and your pathetic sovereignty
in the void the memory that moves away slowly like a beggar tired of
alms somehow all this abandoned you at last and nebula covers your body.