They Know Not What They Do with Their Suffering

They’re gleeful—accident prone
Gods or just accidentally gods—

Let’s call it hi-def smut.
The dirt is tired from so

Many burials. We dislike
The lack of flamingos

In our cities. But the biggest
Challenge is just getting in

To the fun-fun club. It’s brutal—
How you see in your reflection

Blisters, lines of fear.
The moths are sharp, violets

Are exploding. It is fine
To call this sublime & be

Wrong. All the waltzing light.
Pearled pigeons in the shadows.

Here are the embalmers
Of figs. You can never go back.

Front page image by Miles Bannan.

# # #
Like what you're seeing on Revolver?
Like us on Facebook, follow us on Twitter, or order Print Edition Two and support the publication.
Alex Lemon

About the Author

Alex Lemon is the author of Happy: A Memoir, and the poetry collections Mosquito, Hallelujah Blackout and Fancy Beasts. A book of essays and a new poetry collection are forthcoming from Milkweed Editions. His writing has appeared in Esquire, The Huffington Post, Best American Poetry 2008, Satellite Convulsions, Tin House, Kenyon Review, AGNI, The Southern Review and jubilat, among others. Among his awards are a 2005 Literature Fellowship in Poetry from the National Endowment for the Arts and a 2006 Minnesota Arts Board Grant. He is a frequent book reviewer for the Dallas Morning News. He lives in Ft. Worth, Texas, and teaches at TCU. He is and tweets as @Alxlemon.
More in: