hush & hum

 

the poem

is a prayer

 

you write all alone

in your closet.

 

it fights

you;

 

demands

a blessing

 

from the

shit.

 

inside time’s

attenuated tip,

 

you wrestle

with the

 

wooden chest

of your heart:

 

all the

kindling,

 

the hush

& hum,

 

the red

sharp,

 

the perfect

death.

 

deeper still,

you move

 

through the

electric blue

 

darkness, the

great lost—ness,

 

a tiny sign of life

hunting another.

 

you see the

silver sparks

 

brush up

against you—

 

—but you can  not

feel them.

 

you are here

but not   here.

 

you remember

your father saying

 

every thing is

going to be okay

 

with his ragged

breath and big

 

chemo

eyes.

 

even then,

on the edge

 

of death,

he was full of

 

hills

& hopes.

 

now, the

banyans

 

and creeks and

deer and wolves

 

tell you: it is time

to move into your

 

own life, to stop

inhabiting the

 

mausoleum of family

historyreligionmemory.

 

put whiskey in your coffee

and go out into the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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