From the Latin word for “patchwork,” the cento (or collage poem) is a poetic form composed entirely of lines from poems by other poets. I used the lyrics of some of my favorite broody male musicians to make this cento. If you’d like to listen to the songs I pulled lines from, you can do so here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1jho9zYpQuzj3bVxSzRxdF?si=0EJLKiDHQ2i1Zj-9IJefmA.
Happy Valentine’s Day to all the lonely hearts!
No bells anymore, just my stomach rumbling.
I make coffee while looking out the window and notice that
I can’t remember when or if I woke up.
Take a forty-five minute shower and kiss the mirror
and say, “Look at me. Baby, we’ll be fine.”
I am trying to make peace with where I am.
I’m laughing out loud so much it appears that I am crying.
(I remember laughing to take that away from you)
(I remember quiet evenings trembling close)
(I’d give my body to be back again)
I am trying to make peace with where you are.
I’m still standing in the same place where you left me standing,
dreaming of a lighthouse in the woods. I am easy to find.
(You can’t imagine how I hate this.)
Come to me now, like you did then —
Don’t leave my hyper heart alone on the water —
My only lover, give out to give in —
I am trying to make peace but not at all.
O, behold the hole in my heart.
(There’s blood on that blade, fuck me, I’m falling apart)
I’m afraid that I am feeling much too many feelings
simultaneously at such a rapid clip
and words are futile devices.
I am trying to make peace inside today.
I am trying, but it’s not working.
(Where does the baby bluebird go when she dies?
No chain to the sky, does she fly above the weather?)