Every time I left, you asked me back.
Asked with your hands, your mouths:
return to us you pleaded, movingly.
We have so many places for you, Louis.
I went. That hunger breeds itself
and if I answered it, would end: plus which,
my fact retained its nauseous volatility
for which you wouldn’t stop applauding me.
How could I stay? But here I am again,
pulled back in by the sadness of your stare.
Hush now. It wasn’t so. I look like nights
spent drowsing in the warmth of an old chair;
so comforting. Shall I read you your rights?
Not to be damaged, at least not physically.
Not to be left in ignorance. But once
we’ve met here, and you’ve seen this part of me,
dear, I can’t go until I take your voice.
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If Louis CK can come back to a standing ovation, has MeToo really changed anything? [The Independent]
Why do bad men think we need them? [Yahoo News]
Catherine Rockwood is a Massachusetts poet and independent scholar. Her work has appeared in Psaltery & Lyre, Antiphon, KYSO Flash and elsewhere.
Photo of Louis CK by Rayan.
