RENDER, RENDER

 

 

Boil it down: feet, skin, gristle,

bones, vertebrae, heart muscle, boil

it down, skim, and boil

again, dreams, history, add them and boil

again, boil and skim

in closed cauldrons, boil your horse, his hooves,

the runned-over dog you loved, the girl

by the pencil sharpener

who looked at you, looked away,

boil that for hours, render it

down, take more from the top as more settles to the bottom,

the heavier, the denser, throw in ache

and sperm, and a bead

of sweat that slid from your armpit to your waist

as you sat stiff-backed before a test, turn up

the fire, boil and skim, boil

some more, add fever

and the virus that blinded an eye, now’s the time

to add guilt and fear, throw

logs on the fire, coal, gasoline, throw

two goldfish in the post (their swim bladders

used for “clearing”), boil and boil, render

it down and distill,

that for which there is no

other use at all, boil it down, down,

then stir it with rose water, that

which is now one dense, fatty, scented red essence

which you smear on your lips

and go forth

to plant as many kisses upon the world

as the world can bear!

space

THOMAS LUX

“Render, Render” appears in THE CRADLE PLACE (Houghton Mifflin, 2004) and is reprinted with the author’s permission.

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