Thursday, August 18, 2022

Lines on the Lip of a Skull Cup

Pour wine in me, so I drink too,
and with a toast; new life can flow
from wine, and fill my view again
with treasures that the living grow.

While still alive I travelled often
exploring mansions, music, mirth.
Fill me - I'm more useful now
that most of me has rejoined earth.

I chose holding wine for you
over worms cavorting in my breach.
Places once caressed, I sense
more lips will graze, will press, will meet.

Your servant, let me serve again,
to hold, and sense, and warm your wine.
A job that calls for empty heads;
I planned ahead to proffer mine.

So drink to life, and to the day
some incautious traveller may find
a skull exposed on sunny ground
and pour himself a cup of  wine.

A disinterested gift. No life can grow
importance from the days that sprawl
from birth to death. A cup, at least,
can carry frenzy past the fall.



after Lines Inscribed Upon a Cup Formed from a Skull by Lord Byron

Mercedes Webb-Pullman gained her Diploma in Creative Writing from Whitireia, 2009, and graduated from IIML Victoria University with MA in Creative Writing 2011. Her work has appeared in Turbine, 4th Floor, Swamp, Reconfigurations, The Electronic Bridge, Otoliths, Connotations, The Red Room, Typewriter Kind of a Hurricane Press, and Cliterature, among others, and in her books. The latest, The Jean Genie, explores the work of Jean Genet. She lives on the Kapiti Coast, New Zealand.

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