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Vile

by Betania Tesch

On a very bright day
you talk about the vileness
of the world
as we drive to some
useless location
in search of immortality
in the form of holiday
and I tell you that
nothing is vile
but you are distracted
by the sun
and I offer you my hand
for comfort
but instead you
press my palm to the surface
of the sun
and watch as my arm bubbles
and melts instantaneously
That is vile
you remark.

06/08/2002

Posted on 06/08/2002
Copyright © 2025 Betania Tesch

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Richard Paez on 12/09/02 at 07:50 PM

Beth- the keen and lovingly-unforgiving eye you turn to your subjects nearly blinds me. In your poems, and this one is an overwhelming example, you reach such a pinnacle of honesty that it seems, at times, like you are on the verge of piercing the sky so deeply that even god has to be careful lest a stray limb gets caught and cut. Thanks to this poem alone I would love to meet whom which was the source of your inspiration- how one person, so full of pain, can render the so very delicate skin of a loved one so vile- and that you can attach and detach so effectively as to be able to write this! Amazing! Sign me up to receive a copy of the book- my once-and-future selves will do well to learn from your observations.

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