cold tales of distant
forests dense & rich
in waxen leaf and
canopy the
exotic
way
you look at me
language unrecognizable &
tiger eyes so lost in green
and waterfalls
the jungle times when we could plunder
shamelessly, our love
and history awash in blossom
ships and wondrous
biting insects
š
enter the realm
their smooth-faced god
placid amidst noisy colours
a devotee of sorts I travelled
distances to overcome
suffering, with half a heart
outside the temple
foreign shoes in rows & postcards
the soft-eyed mangy dogs
& bougainvillea clutching
worn verandas
a
species we had never seen
I endured the duller pain of travel
I was always avaricious
a
quiescent seed
you loved me anyways
and I returned your good heart
sick with incense
š
the museum smell
of documents and death, the saddest
shroud of history
it takes
influence and investments
to be the best collector
I could not shake
the opium truth
I wanted the taxonomy
the way some wanted
love
š
rarest petals, perfumes &
hidden in a deep treed
valley, small happy people
outside the economy
our riches undermined
and bruised I looked back
as I left them, slinging
goats and singing
as if they might be free
the birds, the long-tailed haunting birds
š
Dear
heart—
I
know the corners
of
the dirty world
I
walk from deserts
into
jungles, cannot make out
the
difference
now
and again
my
solitude erupts
like
bedsores
I
yearn for relevance
&
discovery seek
the
unknown species
O Visage
seeing
& serene
See me
I have folded
on my knees
stricken with unthought words
No comments:
Post a Comment