Paul Vermeersch: A Poem

BALUSTRADE
after “Utopia” by Lisa Robertson

In spring, a century buckles, pressed

into rusting bed frames, prosthetic legs,

and confused, windswept architecture.

The crows are an accidental beauty.

In autumn, the world was no longer

a phosphorescent empire, fragile

and finite. How simple the future is.

Everything already exists. The tree.

The sky. The elegance of the balustrade

in the hot, thin air. The little island

of beaches ringed in purple fields.

Beneath the structures, the summer

weeds deepen. In dry leaves, the remains

of a fallen figure — she was already ruined.

--Paul Vermeersch

from Don’t Let It End Like This Tell Them I Said Something

by permission of the author

Image by K Rayker

 Paul Vermeersch is the author of several poetry collections, including the Trillium-nominated The Reinvention of the Human Hand (M&S, 2010) and Don't Let It End Like This Tell Them I Said Something (ECW, 2014). He lives in Toronto and is Senior Editor for Wolsak & Wynn.