I was once buried
in the cemetery at the top of the hill
but erosion has wiped away fallen comrades,
and through the general disintegration of time
Neither I, nor my headstone is worthy
of my Terra sanctuary.
They gathered around my grave
a site of Carnival, the beers passed around the tombstone.
Old friends pay their respect by day,
and the teens know how to tango
in the early morning
dancing from headstone to headstone
sunrise spotlight on macabre stage.
Now even the vandals don’t come around anymore.
The house cat, bronze iris and black pawed,
traces it’s way around my burying ground
The senorita, margarita in painted face,
hold my holiest of days
and the children tire of my wandering fingers
who knew the body
would be the vehicle
ensnared and tangled
caught in eternal flame
to imprison their manifestation
to imprison the soul.
Though I was never baptized I have known the ceilings of heaven
though I’ve committed no great sin
I know the delusions of hell
They don’t tell you that it’s in the air
just under our noses
where we couldn’t possibly have seen it
we couldn’t have guessed
If my survival,
my humanity is
could I be the
Hubris they’re looking for?
How could you adapt to change
If change is all you’ve known?
If change is your comfort zone?
How do you live
After the death
After the death
Of the ego?
He is a creation of mine
A figurative shit
I forced onto the page
Blowing a gasket
How much pleasure does it take
Before it isn’t about love anymore?
How man slits before the wrists
Are no longer clenching an escape rout?
There is a green fog
Fallen through the tree canopies
Into the indignant
I want the music
That makes stone walls crack
That makes men feel.
Tripping over protruding root
Mother’s passive aggressive revenge
Broken branches like compound fractures
The hurricanes scream with
Cracking evergreens, aspens
Creasing trees and cannon balling ship masts
Falling soldiers, stiff with rigor mortis
Sabers of lightning
And sparking gunfire
Dry cracking birches
Like snapping muzzle fire
Squatting in the green
Burning down to the filter
Deep in meditation
What does it mean
To penetrate deeper than flesh;
To be further connected with the soul
You hit the flint
But they’re the ones
To burn down the town
Curious creature cast in darkness
Fear not, you have the lessons that can’t be taught
The land is the classroom for the soul
In the sun, snow, frost, in the cold
Life lessons, natural lectures, and lavish, love in the heart of the land.