Could be the
blood in the sink, could
be the
recognition of
projection/reflection of your dying self.
Could
be the antidote
for madness or thin
cattle grazing
in the Taos heat near
the pueblo.
In the
bottle, an
elixir
in her hand,
in
Kuan Yin’s
compassionate
hand.
Could be Coors Light or forgiveness.
Birds circle,
hawks fend off posse of crows
all the
vultures want is meat & there is flesh all
around this
place aching to be meat
you dig?
aching to be memory. Remember
her scent?
It’s coming out of you. Remember the
scarlet stains
on the bathroom floor? Under her
robe the flesh,
bones & tendons of
patience
personified
of a reminder
of the experience human.
Ganesh is an
elephant god w/ ash in his belly & one broke tusk.
Shango is the
communication of fire, bloodfire. He is
waiting for it
to stop dripping from your nose. Until then, he drums.
Smoke rising
from the remnants of thunderbolts. You
almost got hit
& wish you did. Everything
gone
but the
sound of Dr. Williams laughing in heaven, he too
still waiting,
smoke
rising in
desert heat while we search for rams, roosters & one red candle.
Death comes w/
the mighty swing of one double axe. It
calls
& you’d be
wise to surrender to this death sentence
sentience
renewed & deepened. Murmur of drums continues.
The violent
temper. Dreams of rabbits scattering. The
growth of corn
in Anasazi heat. Dreams
of crying w/
childhood friends who notice the growth of
a child, the
growth of a
will & hear
the muffled roars of 7 generations watching.
The KING DID
NOT HANG! The
memory of
fire, bloodfire leaking
of blood
spilling on the bathroom floor or
your smile
from above, your face contorted by ecstasy & your
scent
enveloping me as if it were madness or surrender.
All of it
comes down to the edge
of Shango’s
axe or Manjushri’s sword
it is the
warrior filled w/ remorse
becoming a
pile of
ash in front
of our eyes in millions of shrines the
Anasazi
sunset red
over Moab is only the
bloodstains
of Orishas
is heaven’s
reflection, the
recognition
of the need to surrender, save
nothing if
necessary - thunder beckons - for
ever is this
moment you share w/ me. & remember, nothing is ever
safe.
1:30PM – 6.19.02
508 E. Main Street #E.
