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Spadina Literary Review  —  edition 23 page 11


The Carriage of Love

by Jack D. Harvey

Well, Max, in your eyes
I see stars streaking,
exploding to tears and
running down your cheeks.

Did she leave you?
Or did the boat of love land
you both in some same
bedroom of boredom and regret?

In love's red-hot chamber
of intimate essences,
musk and sweat,
who left the windows open?

In Cupid's chariot,
become lukewarm
and stuck in place,
who let the air out of the tires?

Well, Max, whatever,
that special feeling,
the heat of the blood,
is gone and truth be told,
neither of you rode off
proud as punch or happy
with the prize, with the
lasting irreplaceable meed,
with the noble complex sorrow
of love's loss.

So why then trouble
each thin eyelash
with tears?