Triad: A Denial

Last night, I was searching through my bookshelves for a copy of DragonSong for TheGirl. I swear I had a copy of that book, but failed to find it. While searching, though, I ran across an old poetry booklet I'd picked up on Milwaukee's East Side in the early 90's. It contains what was one of my favorite poems in the 90s. I still think it's pretty good. Written by Nicholas Cipollone, of Goal Zero Poetry Group, it's entitled Triad: A Denial. I couldn't find any presence of Mr. Cipollone's poetry online, so I'm going to reproduce the poem here:

Triad: A Denial

but she is not
but she is not
but she is not
the one I love

she is not the one whose eyes
are dappled with tarnished silver clouds
that conceal reveal the moon in their passage

she is not the one whose hands
are white with the powdered bones of her lovers
are white with distance and memory

she is not the one whose voice
calls still calls from caves from groves
from lonely places on chill stricken nights

she is not she is not she is not

and she is not my mistress
and she is not my muse
and she is not my lover

coals glow int he tripod brazier
old women gossip in the shadowed courtyard
soldiers patrol the unlit streets
daybirds have begun to sing
informers are everywhere
I must dissemble and be cunning

three times I deny her
I deny everything
dawn will see me blind

Obviously, I don't have any rights to this poem, so if Mr. Cipollone would like me to take it down, he need only let me know, and I'll be happy to comply.

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