Rimbaud in America

Fever in the knees
gold in the belly

and-almost forgot-
the varicose veins:

so you arrive
drenched to the bone

by the salt of Abyssinia.
Deep inside, a desire

to be ever departing
as if poetry were

-horror at solid ground-
the edge

of an absolute coast.
But there are reefs along the shore

and shark teeth
on the high sea.

Beyond that,
it's impossible to predict

when the spirit-

or maligned-
will speak.

For this, swallow the stones
you brought in your pocket.

Here you will have to begin again.