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He caught
an adolescent's mind
with sex
and wreckage,
a tragic fall
and the grotesque
sheep's child.
His was poetry
deformed and twisted
and I could not look away
I had no words of my own
no tongue for lust
or sorrow
mouth open but mute
horny as hell
afraid I was ugly
sure that the world was.
He confirmed that and
changed it in the process.
The long fall would turn beautiful
in the end because
any horror could be faced
and become a poem. mjh
18Apr97
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James Dickey died January 19, 1997.
hits.
