The Last Eve, a poem by Victor Monsivais at Spillwords.com
Chris Brignola

The Last Eve

The Last Eve

written by: Victor Monsivais

 

Elegy for Ernesto Monsiváis

Death got closer
smelling of syringe and alcohol
uncomfortable silence
only broken by the hideous humming
of the oxygen tank
shattered breathing

when night befell
death was already there (beside you)

our sorrow could weep no more
your frugal spasms

your bed jolted
and time fought
to keep you upright
the walls wailed

then silence froze it all
your gaze
the springtime
your song

the next day (‘round eleven)
with an almost invisible haul
(it seems) that death
forever embraced you

Víctor Monsiváis

Víctor Monsiváis

Mexico City, 1952
Deeply in love with beauty and love, since he was a child, Víctor has been immersed in various fields of art and knowledge. His innate curiosity and his searching spirit have led him to explore the nature of humans through the philosophies, sciences, and works that they have created. But above all, he has dedicated himself to exploring the stuff of art, within which he has learned and practiced in various disciplines: architecture, music, poetry, painting, and photography. He has lived in Canada for the last thirty years. Today, Víctor continues to live in Toronto with his wife, his son, and his granddaughter. He keeps watching time go by as he does his favorite things: singing, writing, drawing, walking, watching the rain, and loving.
Víctor Monsiváis

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