More Lovely Light

When Paula died

Aged forty-five

And far away,

Septicemic

From trying self

Medication

For an ulcer

Through consumption

Of enough booze

To put herself

Into a coma,

Her erstwhile spouse

Posted Millay

In memory—

My candle burns—

Which was heartfelt

But seems mawkish

In retrospect.

But ah, my foes,

And oh, my friends. . . .

Kaveh Akbar

Suggests you can

 

Cut the body

In half / like a

Candle, just to

Double its light,

But brace yourself,

Then, for certain

Unspecified

Consequences.

Millay awkward,

Akbar tidy.

Just try holding

A candle lit

Both ends at once,

But cut it in half,

A solution!

Two short candles.

Still twice as fast.

Won’t last the night.

But useful now.

They’ll stand themselves

Until they melt

In consequence.