East Region

after L’Apparition by Gustave Moreau, Fogg Museum

curtained in jewels, crowned in jewels, the loose flow

of luxury fabric trailing behind, the girl dances,

ontologically no show tiger, brought out on a leash

for the amusement of the spectators, but socially

little different, draped and dressed and placed centrally

to snap to performance at the bidding of the king

the king, sparse and vanishing behind the lavished girl

and the apparition of the man for whose decapitation she longed,

sits in silent appreciation of a scene he may or may not

comprehend in full, sits opposite the ready guard,

spear at hand but bothering not to watch the dancer’s twist

into love, longing, or madness as she holds out her arm

to the prophet’s disembodied head, gushing blood

to the damning stain on the golden floor, his face

turned in blankness toward her own; in death, boredom,

or pity it is difficult to tell. this seems to be

her story, after all, this girl who comes before the king,

sensual fabric, jewels, flesh--desire and ennui intermingled

in a homicidal wine that only she can drink.

John himself mirroring the colors of the court, the tan

of his skin, the red of his blood, halo gold as the columns behind them

he floats easily, too easily, in this voracious scene,

as if the longing for God is not too far from death,

as if death is not far from desire, as if these essential impulses

all meet, at last, in the blood—blood flowing, blood saved,

blood spilled, blood hot and eager and spilling out,

blood and gold and jewels and heaven’s great reward.

of course the woman whose only weapon is beauty

longs for the head of the man whose weapon is words,

the words of the divine brought to human ears—of course

she pauses, confused in her dance, to see the man

whose death she has ordered. of course she reaches out

a long, thin arm. insatiability greets insatiability,

desire acknowledges great desire, blood calls out to blood.