Your Lime-Kiln by William Doreski

You burn me in your lime-kiln
without a twinge of conscience.
Bone regards bone through sweeps
of prehistory impossible
to conceive. You toss your streaked
rusty hair and tip an iced glass
of vodka from your  native land,
that nation of ill-fitting suits
and dentistry without Novocain.

You observe the blue flame boiling
from the kiln, the smoke flushing
the night sky a sickly purple.
Didn’t Hawthorne identify
the ultimate sin? Your townhouse
rattles like a box of candy
as my vacated spirit hustles
up through the chimney to trace
the flight of my sorry ashes.

The chunk of lime left cooling
in the kiln looks clean enough
to atone for whatever crimes
you like to think I’ve committed.

Yes, I’d like another vodka.
But I think we should continue
our discussion in a minor key
on some other winter evening
when you’re not quite so eager
to mortar me into silence
with a handful of my cremains.

3 Responses to “Your Lime-Kiln by William Doreski”

  1. William Doreski teaches at Keene State College in New Hampshire. His latest collection of poetry is Waiting for the Angel (2009). He has published three critical studies, including Robert Lowell’s Shifting Colors. His fiction, essays, poetry, and reviews have appeared in many journals, including Massachusetts Review, Notre Dame Review, The Alembic, New England Quarterly, Harvard Review, Modern Philology, Antioch Review, Natural Bridge.

  2. Rex Sexton Says:

    Volcanic verse, a great reading experience.

  3. Carter Monroe Says:

    This piece is most assuredly a proverbial “cut above.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: