It was small news
Under reported
The EU will no longer require absinthe to contain wormwood
So fans of Rimbaud and Toulouse-Lautrec
You need to come forward and protest
Or at least buy up stockpiles of the real stuff
Like I’ll do
In case I feel a fin de siècle mood coming on
Because if I need a zinc topped table to lean on
As the night travels into timeless
I’ll want the original
Old school cool shit
The ritual
I want the faint echo of the psychedelic that those old poems promise
I don’t want extra ethyl
I want dreams
I want the curls of worms
I want to see the dance of the green fairy
The green fairy naked
I want to write skewed poetry
Illuminate the edge of the crack that splits the glass
Open
I want the mirrorshard of memory
Tinged with the green fuzz of decay
To taste of absinthe
That takes me away
David Trudel © 2013
Ah, now there’s a madness I’ve not tasted, unfortunately. I don’t know how this is possible (because you have always been a wonderful poet), but each of your pieces is raising the bar just a little for the next one.
It’s funny, I had no intention of writing this at all. The story about wormwood had caught my attention but I hadn’t been aware of thinking about it at all since reading the very short story the newspaper had buried somewhere in the Business section. I wrote the previous two poems after jotting down a few phrases and lines in a notebook while I was out and thinking about them driving home. Much more the usual way of looking for inspiration and then wrestling with the thoughts and words. Then this just came along and demanded to be written. I am really pleased with it myself, but this was one of those inspired gifts that was more of a dictation than an inspiration. I have also filed it under Steampunketry since there is a real steam punk, retro feel to this poem.