Travis Lau

A Lover Dead in His Twenties

After Adrienne Rich


1.

Just before they signed away 
your right to 
                                     life, 

you thought to hide hints 
behind your 
gasps

because you knew 
I loved to lean 
          into you,

to listen actively 
as it was the closest 
we could ever be.


2.

The grain of your voice:
I did not know that
memorials bore
such textures.

(The ivy has already
strangled your
name.)


3.

The planes of       you 
were changing, 

but you chose never 
to make much of it

because that wasn’t how 
you were raised:

to outline yourself in 
enough green 
to be envied,
enough red 
to be a target.

A shot
in the back is
the present’s
plain language.

I learned from you 
that being a cipher
could be a powerful 

desire.


4.

Wojnarowicz said 
when it was all over,

he wanted us to 
just drop 
his body 
on the steps 
of the fucking FDA,

but I don’t know 
if I have the 
        heart 
to do that to you,
you, 
                  you
(who I failed to
love with any
grace) 

even as your body is something 
sharper now than it ever was in life

because you refuse the right to
amnesia,
the linchpin of 
home and country

reddened rusty 
by your and our brothers’
tainted blood, 

for our touching
needed to be untouching

until they were distant forms
that only became

hard fact
in the flows of longing.


5.

How am I supposed to
cast this flower upon your soil,
how do I tell the truth of you

when the very words I need

were the ones that once
bound you,
hurt you,
stole away your name?

eulogy:
true praise.


6.

By the time you could not move,
you no longer bothered with

the headlines, 
cheap pundits

because the story
still eludes

the dainty fingers
of press and camera:

you were already
too busy
cleaving hard
to that imperceptible
space             beyond
their line of sight.


7.

A warrior
burying
                  a warrior:

(no, that’s not right.)

you would want
me to write,

however inexact
or exacting,

about a life
beyond reproach

so that none of us
must apologize

for doing nothing
wrong.


Travis Chi Wing Lau received his Ph.D. in English at the University of Pennsylvania and is a postdoctoral teaching fellow at the University of Texas at Austin. Alongside his academic writing and public scholarship, his poetry has appeared in Glass Poetry, The New Engagement, Nat. Brut, Matador Review. His chapbook, The Bone Setter, was recently published with Damaged Goods Press. [travisclau.com/@travisclau]


Note: This poem was previously published in Glass Poetry for the Writers Resist series.