Came to our town.
They burned down my parent’s home
And wrote in a large childish scrawl, across the front lawn,
only one sentence.
Surprisingly Belligerent Animals of Menace or possible only malice,
EXPLODE!
But by the time they organized a demolition derby in the town Schoolyard,
At recess,
They had improved dramatically in their graffiti.
Also they had Learned Italics.
Which as they imparted to me in their wisdom;
Was the sole and only language of Prostitutes.
An unseen hand lends a twinge of electric hum to my skin.
I am paralyzed,
Hot Breath of Fire, Nibbling my Ear.
I Am Listening to Seashells telling me Dirty, Ancient Songs…
I Am Listening to Gibberish and Magic Spells.
The World is Only Teeth
And Lips,
Chapped,
At my Neck.
I Feel the Kiss of Slapped Hips.
As Obediently the Wind Whispers Lies
That I, Happily Accept.
I Can stand it no Longer –
And it Goes on for Days and Nights; Kingdoms are born, rise and fall;
Stars burn and shoot off into the night; Gods age and are Forgotten –
I Blow a Kiss Goodbye
And Sell My Soul,
So that This will never End.
But at 12:34 however
It Does.
So I Go
And
I Pour
Two Glasses of Orange Juice.
-The End-
The Deities ask me what I Think…
But I can only tell them
That I Do not Understand.
No one knows where they came from, or for that matter, why.
Not even our Mayor knows. We ask Him, Do you know where they came from?
No, He always says, But we do have a specially appointed board looking
into it.
Today the Deities, (For they told us they were Gods),
burned down Old Bob’s Drug Store; And had Smores,
Which they then, Refused to share.
Tonight, I heard something clambering around on my roof,
I walked outside, barefoot onto the lawn. I shone my flashlight up onto a
corner apex, where three of them sat, ripping shingles off and hurling them
at my neighbors yard.
Stop That! I Shouted.
But They
Only
turn their faces languidly towards mine
and Flip three shingles at my forehead.
I Duck, crawl back inside and make myself a pot of tea.
I Stopped one on the street once.
Excuse me I Said, Could you please tell me Why you Lit that Baby’s
Stroller on Fire?
Because I Felt Like it, It said… and walked on.
I tried to understand
But found it hard to think under the babies cries.
Where did you get your Godhood? We ask.
From our Parents, they Reply.
And then two dozen of us
are machine gunned down on the spot.
These are only Words they jokingly say, But still those dead, stay dead.
Maybe they are only pretending, I Think.
For…
Can a Deity even lie?
As the Blood runs upward
and Rains into the Sky.
Everyone Has their own theory about the Gods. Some Say we have
been cursed without Just Cause. Others deride and whine
Saying we have been cursed with Just Cause.
Still Others Say that It’s all just Blessing in Disguise.
The Whole thing
Is a Very Heated Debate.
Mrs. Jones told me what she Believed.
I Believe that comparisons are odious, she said,
and that the heavenly father is only a ghost.
I Believe in one single unfathomable word and nothing else.
But Most importantly I Believe that Intentions are Glowing Fires.
She paused and then concluded with a Drunken Shout,
I Believe in the Eternal Coming of the Bridegroom!
But
The deities do not care,
They descend upon her in droves.
We call a town meeting, but the wrathful deities show up as a
woodwind ensemble
and drown out our words with their reedy squeals.
I Climb up to the cupola on Town Hall and scream to the sky
meaningless Syllables.
And Seemingly, as if in reply,
A cloud forms into a bizarre penis another into a giraffe.
But still
I do not understand.
We Call on the parish priest and ask him what we can do.
Have you tried reason? he says.
So we strap him with our belts to a chair, and
Then deliver him up unto them.
Life in our Town goes on.
Then one Morning all is Quiet, we step shyly from our homes.
Where are they?
Have they ascended to the Clouds?
We Crumple on our knees to the pavement; we grin stupidly at one another;
And then we begin to tear out each other’s hair.
My face pressed against the pavement, blood gritted in my teeth
I Feel a Pulse …
Something which Moves the Air around me, Even Though It can’t be seen
Or sometimes
Even Felt.
A Pulse…
Like the Beat of some Unimaginable
And Unspeakable Drum.
I Hear a cat mewl off in the distance,
I Hear Flowers blossom and drop from the Vine,
I Hear my Heart, It speaks in no Language,
It is a Beast of no Nation
I think,
As Neither Awe nor Fall,
As both Shit and Smile, the here
as words, the now
as words, Heart Beat
(Palpation)
And Breath
In their ceaseless
Wavering incompletion
And
Finally…
I Understand.
So I go
And I pour
Two Glasses of Orange Juice.
-The End-
DUBIOUS PANDA 