Robert BlyMailing Evidence to the Prosecutors
Every leaf in a storm points in the same direction. The story of an affair is the story of our life. The lover's body always tilts toward earth. Lovers sometimes hide things under their pillows. During our first year, we saved maps of Bali, The Boundary Waters, and the Maltese lowlands. We didn't know enough to move into a house. We slept out in the barley fields night after night, Watching the stars go over the edge of the world. We know that lovers travel to distant countries, Sometimes before they meet. We have agreed We knew each other a hundred years ago. When we had mailed the evidence to the prosecutors Three times, they understood that we were destined For prison. When judges saw us coming, they clapped. The two of us were blind, but we did drive our horses Over the endless prairie. You judges, tell me If you've ever seen wagons that traveled so far.
Robert Bly's new selected poems, Eating the Honey of Words, has recently appeared from Harper Flamingo, as well as his translations of Ghalib, The Lightning Should Have Fallen on Ghalib (with Sunil Dutta), from Ecco Press.
