Dantesqueries (epigrams as if by Dante)

by Charles Cantalupo

from Inferno

15
My teacher is a desert fire, my teacher is a flood,
I’m on the wall that runs between them overlooking both.
And I mean running, never stopping – never melting, drowned
Or falling so that both sides end each other, and then what’
I like the looking sideways, back and forth, and moving on.
It’s where I take my stand, however isolated, cursed,
Or funny if it’s too much drama still to be unlearned.

21
Why think I’d ever tell you what my story doesn’t sing?
Scrape all you want and wash it so your sander makes it smooth.
Then plug the holes to hammer tight and paint me what you like.
Or try to scare me, grind your teeth and give me ugly looks,
And when my story still holds up go fart your heart’s desire.
I won’t change no to yes for your advantage – nor for mine.

from Purgatorio

9
An eagle plucks me from an empty dream yet my first dream –
The eagle’s golden feathers and black talons flying blind,
As if it has no eyes for now but all-consuming fire
Not knowing high or low except extreme that I can tell
Before a sense of place returns with three stone steps to climb
Of solid blood, a dense black hole, and pure un-melting ice
Embedded with the pieces of a runic broken sword
That flicker on and off a crazy spelling of my name.
I’m lying there, a key in either hand, except for what?

15
Love or money – let me tell you how they work: the same.
The more you get, the less for someone else – love works in flesh,
And money works in words; we can use numbers if you like.