Pantoublock with Persephones and Milk Cartons by Seth Leeper
History is a matter of course-correcting all the mistakes of men
Pantoublock with Persephones and Milk Cartons
by Seth Leeper
Lost is the wrong word for abduction. Before you died, I wrote a book. All the characters were Persephone. The settings spanned fields, old dirt roads, and abandoned parking lots. As a child I slept by a locked window a 45 minute drive from where Polly Klaas was taken. Before you died, I wrote a book. All the characters were looking for Persephone. Demeter put on her death mask until her trifling brother returned her daughter. As a child I slept with a thin blanket draped over me at the foot of your bedroom door. History is a matter of course -correcting all the mistakes of men. Demeter put on her death mask until Hades brought Persephone back as a spring child who’d been poisoned with winter. I knew you’d protect me and my sister. We each chose an ankle to cling to. History is a matter of course-correcting all the misdeeds of men. Polly was not returned to her mother in any discernible shape. I knew you’d protect me and my sister even if it meant scaling the many steps down to hell yourself. Lost boys and girls littered the sides of Sunday morning milk cartons, their faces grey and monochrome against the plastic-coated, shiny white paper. Polly had a theater erected in her name and in every play they reenacted the Eleusian mysteries. When the Reaper came to affix your death mask, his feet crunching dead weeds, we wrestled it from his bony hands.
Polly was left, unfound, in scattered leaves under sheltering trees. I, too, was there-everyday with her; arriving for work, leaving from work. I felt her unknown presence as I do in reading your wonderful poem. Thank you.
Yes, I have a file titled "beautiful poems" and I'm going to save yours in it. Beautifully dark, it should be.