TOUCH OF THE MARVELOUS
– Philip Lamantia

The mermaids have come to the desert
they are setting up a boudoir next to the camel
who lies at their feet of roses

A wall of alabaster is drawn over our heads
by four rainbow men
whose naked figures give off a light
that slowly wriggles upon the sands

I am touched by the marvelous
as the mermaids’ nimble fingers go through my hair
that has come down forever from my head
to cover my body
the savage fruit of lunacy

Behold the boudoir is flying away
and I am holding onto the leg of the lovely one
called beneath the sea
BIANCA
She is turning
with the charm of a bird
into two giant lips
and I am now falling into the goblet of suicide

She is the angelic doll turned black
she is the child of broken elevators
she is the curtain of holes
that you never want to throw away

she is the first woman and the first man
and I am lost to have her

I am hungry for the secrets of the sadistic fish
I am plunging into the sea

I am looking for the region
where the smoke of your hair is thick
where you are again climbing over the white wall
where your eardrums play music
to the cat that crawls in my eyes
I am recalling memories of you BIANCA

I am looking beyond the hour and the day
to find you BIANCA




I first read this poem about a year ago in Rain Taxi, which I had picked up somewhere or other. It was a great read - it's the first place I read Bob Hicock, too. Lamantia was an American surrealist, had met André Breton. What I love about this poem is that it's not afraid to be marvelous, to go out there. The poem makes a sound in my mind, the cumulative sound of dreams. It isn't vague: all the images are very clear. It's the leaps that are astounding, yet they aren't random. It's exactly the kind of poem that would have been trashed in most of my MFA workshops despite its gorgeousness.