Statue of Eve at the Bauhaus, Weimar

What I know isn't even fit to be useless. No place except this stairwell.
How worse than a helix it is. How worse than summer.

I could not leave, but I left undone and lost the art to finish.
How is it that sunlight consoles.

The unspeakable took place outside (too near) the city; things
Its Goethe didn't live to see. And I remember the ambition.

I was rising, I craved the beautiful. The taste still troubles me.

Copyright © 2007 Yvette Siegert All rights reserved
from Chelsea
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission