[How like a perfectly built wall]Boyer Rickel
How like a perfectly built wall the naked Celts were, a howling form of skin—a human skirl horrifying the Roman warriors. We strip off our clothes to make love; to bathe. Once on a beach at night I stripped and walked from air into water the same temperature, my body pressed against a wall of welcome. The Celts stripped before taking up their shields and swords and streaming into battle—torcs coiled like golden snakes around their necks their only armor. Light off such a wall posits we cannot love both truth and authority. Who wouldn’t fall back?
Boyer Rickel Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2024, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.