When or if or ever
will he
turn his head to me?
Can he
be willed to, the way
I can wish ill on an enemy
and watch it strike? No, see
spite is so much
easier than love, heavy
but I can hold it,
more stone
than water, more why
than how. And how could I
call him
and by what name
to make him stumble
and slow?—
or better, prefer me
to the vanishing
point, horizon, color
which exists
only from a great distance
between
my voice and the song
he pursues. Oh
he grows old
ahead of me, he grows so
the same (refrain, refrain).
He does not turn
his head to me, he will not turn again.
Jameson Fitzpatrick is the author of the chapbook Morrisroe: Erasures, which comprises 24 versions of a single text by the late artist Mark Morrisroe. His poems have appeared in The Awl, The Offing, Poetry, Prelude, and elsewhere. He is a poetry editor for Lambda Literary and teaches writing at New York University.