Daily Archives: December 19, 2016

Our Dragon

Originally posted as “Crisis” in 2009.  

We claimed
we didn’t know anything
about how this would be
right up to the day
the dragon we had been
feeding for ages,
whose back had been
humping up 
the earth
like a monstrous gopher
for as long as we could recall,
the one whose eyes like star sapphires
had dazzled us into long inaction;
until the day the dragon rose into
full view demanding our firstborn,
our second-born, 
demanding to be
slaked and satisfied 
with our legacies;
demanding everything and nothing explicit
because his sheer sudden command
of the common sky 
told us all
we needed to know then and evermore;
and then we ran about like cinders jerking crazily
in the general cloud of destruction, becoming
sparks that vanished even as we flew
lost in the heat of a moment
we’d known was coming for years
and yet had denied as easily as any other god
we’d ever taken on casual terms.
Of course, since we had made this one
ourselves, 
we still believed
we could remake it
right up to the second
that we fell, consumed,
back to the black ground
to enrich the soil for
whatever folly 
would follow us.


Crisis

I want most right now to stroll
within my own stopped life
and examine what’s in it.
I want my life to become
a museum of itself. Put all 
my relations and friends
in it and think about them 
as they magically stand
absolutely still and still alive.
And do not think for one second
that I consider myself exempt
from such exhibition. I want
to stare at me seated there
in my diorama on my couch
or in my bed and ask every 
grand question I can think of
until I figure me out. This is 
how a near death experience
or astral travel is sometimes
described of course. I do not
believe in astral travel and 
as for being near death that is
nothing new. I have been living
near death for a long time and
this has never happened. It has
always been a fast jumble
with no time to look at anything
very long. What I want is
suspended animation as it is
in science fiction movies where
living simply stops for a second.
Everyone stopped. Everything 
stopped but me while I decide
whether or not I am going 
to step out of frame and not
return to this exhibit and instead
slip at last past death and 
keep going to whatever kinetic
wilderness beckons beyond.