Article 6

Mark DeCarteret


archangel 1

even fallen
& all-enrapt  
forever viewed 
from afar
she had never 
laughed as rakishly
shiftily or wide
as when lent that 
final stalemate 
loved involuntarily    



archangel 2

this was us 
sighing 
as usual
our silences 
clenched 
between teeth
sometimes
guessed at
through clouded
up windows
those most 
secret 
of messages
teased into
stuffing
as we sat
just out 
of reach



archangel 3

there was
always
that doubt
we’d try 
readying
our heads
& the other
that walled us 
off
allowing for so
little
of ourselves 
& yet 
another 
we’d stow away
for centuries
regard as the lowest
grade of mercy



archangel 4

when threatened by
the extent
of my tears
she’d send me
to the Purity Supreme
for lozenges
film
the closest I’d come
to being able 
to take flight 
not unlike 
a bat
shaking off
year after
year
of shadows—
the ill will
of its own blood—
as if attempting 
to swear off
any word
of this world
or the next



archangel 5

I’d bawl
but we shared 

a lab wall
& she’d enough

to go on
without me

(so doll-loud
all wobble & rash) 

outlawing, no 
longer touting me

the
least



archangel 6

I ‘d weep
yet we’d still see

to the blown smoke
& she’s fun enuf 

for a lifetime—
an eternity of me

(lame w/pew-rot 
crowd-mocked)

face-wiping my
uncomeliness  

no
less 

 
 

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