moth
i am a moth dizzy and drunk
seeing nothing but a holy light
it draws me in and i return
time and again no matter how it burns
for i am the moth
unless i stop.
crackhead trees
great mangrove trees
leap across an empty space.
it would be funny
but they have guillotines
suspended from their roots.
a tree lands
the blade descends
but somehow doesn't reach
and this starts over
and happens
again and again.
and i am not frightened
such is life
and i watch
not quite calmly
but really not distressed.
no thoughts of escape
this is what is, you see,
and that is how it is
and maybe if the blades were faster
i would be more scared
but the blades and trees
they take their time
so i might as well take mine.
flame
he says, "i have something for you and it is not a present." i kneel for my
benediction. he empties an old brass lamp on my head in a stream of gasoline and
drops a match--a flame upon my head. it does not seem to consume me. it dances, it
is real, but i don't feel it. i don't think this is what he had in mind but that's
his problem. i have my own flame now but what it means i do not know.
April '01
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