Klingon Sestina

It is among the Klingons that love poetry achieves its fullest flower.
—Lieutenant Worf

There isn't much I don't know about love.
It's a point of honour for a Klingon —
to go beyond the final frontier;
to be open and fearless, the Captain
and the crew of their starship passions. Space
is a place for loving: do it boldly.

Fall in love boldly so you'll write boldly.
You can't have one without the other. Love
is a white-hot black hole in outer space;
light is fast and lonely. Whisper Klingon
galactic sweet talk and, like our Captain,
you'll never fail to cross the frontier.

A lot's been said about that frontier,
a lot of jokes about going boldly.
But you've got to admit Kirk and Captain
Picard — neither of them went short on love.
We taught them all they knew of the Klingon
arts of desire, singing sonnets in space.

To write poems you need plenty of space.
Every line is a new frontier
of pain. And it's true, lovers can cling on,
anxious and craving. Just tell them boldly
how many moons you must orbit for love
of their phaser thighs. Show them who's Captain.

That's one of life's ironies our Captain
understands: the more you love, the less space
you have; not worlds enough or time to love
forever; no cosmos, no frontier
far enough to hold it all. Compose boldly
in your own tongue. I'll read it in Klingon.

There's something about the sound of Klingon
that drives all sane beings wild; the Captain
included I must confess. Go boldly,
Jean-Luc is all I need to say. Then space
ripples between us and no frontier
remains. We're one on our planet of love.

I am the Captain of couplets in space.
Let me boldly erase this frontier,
my love, your clothes. Trust me, I'm a Klingon.

Copyright © 2003 Linda France All rights reserved
from The Simultaneous Dress
Bloodaxe Books / Dufour Editions
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission