Tony Hoagland: “Dreamheart”

Nice take on an old theme:


They took the old heart out of your chest
all blue and spoiled like a sick grapefruit

the way you removed your first wife from your life,
and put a strong young blonde one in her place.

What happened to the old heart is unrecorded
but the wife comes back sometimes in your dreams,

vengeful and berating, with a hairdo orange as flame,
like a mother who has forgotten that she loved you

more than anything. How impossible it is to tell
bravery from selfishness down here,

a leap of faith from a doomed attempt at flight.
What happened to the old heart is the scary part:

thrown into the trash, and never seen again,
but it persists. Now it’s like a ghost,

with its bloated purple face,
moving through a world of ghosts,

that’s all of us;
dreaming we’re alive, that we’re in love.

Tin House


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Filed under Poetry, Poets

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