Personal Art
Return | Remember | Reconcile
A rat choking on plastic—
I lift from the enclosure and onto my chest,
And try to squeeze the piece out of it’s guzzle like toothpaste on its last life.
The rat tells me “it’s moved higher” in the throat.
A good sign, but increases blockage of the airway,
And when I place him back in the water,
He coughs it up.
The leopards and antelope and beached blue whales,
Scurry towards the parking lot as the airplanes kick up dust and current.
We grab our brothers and hoist babies over our shoulders,
But cannot find the car.
A man on horseback blocks the path.
The rain will take us all.
What the mind cannot perceive it weighs out and spins in gold.
If only you could take my hollow hand and remember the ancient truth.
Wouldn’t that be so?
You’ve forgotten something along your walk.
Maybe a toothpick or a shindig or a shoestring.
Something's off but I can’t quite place it (Your hair? No).
It’s small but it’s needed to make the walk pleasant.
To be present with the stones beneath your soles without wondering “Where is my…”?
If only money stacked so heavy
It could ding the game wheel to land on "Ah yes! Found it!”
And line your pockets with righteous birth.
The bear charges toward us,
Becoming a wolf and then mauling Mike.
The wolf then becomes a gorilla, waltzing in, asking why we are here.
“To serve.”
“Good, but all of humanity needs you most.”
The leading edge of humanity is a gorilla
Telling us that change is at the fringe, not the Amazon.
The silent compact
Agrees to take us to the void.
Right here,
Right now.
Do you remember the agony of the crib?
The door to mommy clouded by dust circling within the low lit ray?
I guide you to the arched door with a lantern and we speak
for the first time.