WARREN BEATH

I wish to see the Mississippi before I die
I wish to let healing waters roll over me
I wish to feel New Orleans skies grey with rain
on wet brick and limestone
and your reflected face in the puddle at the porch of Marie Laveaux’s white tomb
I wish to share your pattering umbrella
and drink in bars with ghosts
I wish to see the Mississippi before I die
I wish to feel the healing waves
and see razored white water trailing barges
and die a thousand times with you
on a creaking mattress beneath bamboo blinds.
I wish to feel your coolness under white sheets
and let your healing waters rush over me.
I wish to feel your cold moonlight through me
in a room with a ceiling fan
while the Mississippi rolls.
I wish to find you in the dark
and swim to your center.
I wish to feel your Mississippi River before I die
and feel you wash through my empty piers
I wish to feel water
the cold spot on my pillow
where you cry in the dark because you are happy.
I wish not to talk
I wish to drown in you and see your eyes
rippling on the surface above as I sink
into your depths.
I wish to drown in your Mississippi
I wish to be your dark dream and
your Mississippi River.
I wish to flow unvexed to the ocean bearing the freight
of all the hearts
of all the hearts
of all the hearts
the ghosts of the lovesick sailors
on your bone-white shoulders in the dark.
I wish to be the Mississippi of your eyes
I wish to see my reflections in the pools
and rain down in paper pieces
from the bladed ceiling fan.
I wish to be moist
I wish to be cool against you
I wish to be the music outside your window.
I wish to be the rustle of leaves
in your wind
I wish to find you
I wish to find you
in the dark
break your levee
and feel your Mississippi rolling
over me
before I die.
I wish to be dead inside you
I wish to be with you in marble beds
in Old St. Louis Cemetery
I wish the Mississippi at flood
to mingle our molds
and carry our dust
together down freshets and gutters
and join you in the Mississippi
let the healing waters
roll over me