“His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are
spread.”
—Walter Benjamin
Press 2007
blown backwards
into the future
he beholds only
the past
dragging after him
what a catastrophe
the furious wind
hurls at feet
helpless before it
his wings are spread—
fanned flat
with the sharp snap
of terrified sails
how will he fold them
feather on feather
before the torrent
of shock waves from paradise?
him
on his wretched wings
helpless to help
anyone
or anything
what he shouts
is spittle
torn from his mouth
himself, ever only
a single breath ahead
of where he has been
where even now
the surge of broken bodies
is breaking over him
filling his eyes, his mouth, his ears
with creaturely whispers
crushing with love the wings
that have caught him up
in so much misery
—from Donatello’s Version, 2007