The rules break like a thermometer,quicksilver spills across the charted systems,we’re out in a country that has no languageno laws, we’re chasing the raven and the wrenthrough gorges unexplored since dawnwhatever we do together is pure inventionthe maps they gave us were out of dateby years… we’re driving through the desertwondering if the water will hold outthe hallucinations turn to simple villagesthe music on the radio comes clear—neither Rosenkavalier nor Götterdämmerungbut a woman’s voice singing old songswith new words, with a quiet bass, a fluteplucked and fingered by women outside the law. This is poem
II, from Adrienne Rich's Twenty-One Love Poems collection, written between 1974-1976. These were originally published as a complete collection but were later re-published and included as part of another collection of works, written between 1974-1977, called The Dream Of A Common Language.
Twenty-One Love Poems and The Floating Poem, (un-numbered) can all be found here at oldpoetry.
