Slowly, slowly returning from the depths-
a dark morass clogged with twigs and tangling
weeds that wind around your ankles and threaten
to take you down, down..
A dim corner of the soul where this image is the only thing
that could begin to express where my heart has been..

de profundis clamavi
I couldn’t possibly have survived this week, month, year
without the help and tenderness of my sweet sisters..

How lovely they are- these nymphs from the green hills, from the tangled wood..
I would no doubt be at the bottom of the deep blue sea
if they hadn’t fortuitously been gathered together for
the auspicious occasion of a union between
mme. and her dear fellow..
All the hub-bub of a wedding will do much to
distract one from even the deepest grief..
A happy occasion and the most premium company
of several girls galore- a veritable cat-house of
delectable and delightful ladies lounging bordello-style,
giving massages to each other on the balcony and hanging
their dainties and unmentionables from lines to dry
in the sweet summer wind..

All together now, we say..
Much wine, fancy chocolates, endless cups of strong coffee,
foie gras (surely we are going to hell) and purple vegetables
were consumed.. Oh yes, and a bottle of ng-ka-py (such an illicit libation!)
Accordions were wielded, tears shed, songs sung..
We bridesmaids processed with the whole far-flung family
singing an Albanian love song to wend the bridal pair on
their path to wedded bliss deep in the forest..
“O more bil-bil aman E,
O bil-bil aman aman o-E”
I only learned the chorus in an hour,
it’s something about a nightingale..

The lovely bride and dashing groom, flanked by priest and bodyguards (or best-men)..
And then, of course, there was an enormous and beautiful party
where we all devoured piles of delicious food, drank barrels of booze,
and danced wildly until 5 in the morning under the tin roof in the thunderstorm..

Honourable Forest shows you how we do here-
a wedding party in true what-the-fuck New Orleans style…
So now, I am alone in the house for the first time in weeks.
Truly, now that I think of it, for the first time ever,
for the only living thing here is me, and maybe the termites and fleas.
I am reading and dreaming and mending
and having my mind blown by this..
And wishing if only I could just be her..

You can’t see it, but her little goat is painted with coloured polka-dots.
Thank you everyone for all the thoughts and love.
It’s dark and quiet here and finally tranquil, so-

Goodnight.