Daily Archives: January 6, 2017

In Contemplation Of A Possible Funeral There Is Precious Little Humor

Funny

he said as he
put white and
cream yellow gardenias
on the headstone
laid flat into the ground
with dirt still fresh around it
from setting it there

Funny

he said without laughing
that the off-whiteness
of some of the flowers
probably would have had
the departed 
shaking mad

Funny

how that struck him
amid everything else going on

To think that whiteness
would have been

mandatory for the one interred here
even in death
even after
such strict adherence to it
was so much a part
of what killed them

Funny

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The Gospel According To Saint Synchronous

Born and baptized
more than Catholic,
an excellent student
of the Western canon

who did not realize
until almost too late
how much it had also
blasted into near-dust.

Much was given 
as well of course 
but not enough to fill
certain fissures in

his well of being. Much
not directly stolen
leaked away into
the now-dry walls

as a result and to 
compensate all he had
was binary thought, 
a reliance on self

alone, a single meddling
God; not even a scrap of spirit
to call upon in everyday
objects, animals, flowers.

One day he fell ill and
died to the notion of 
a precious afterlife where
he’d still think and still be himself

and instead struck upon
the idea of floating 
across the divide, and saw
there was no divide between

life and death and next life, and as
his own name fell from him,
he said he would be back, smiling
because he knew it was at once

a truth and a lie and a new
Gospel According To Saint
Synchronous arose that said,
find your deity where you are

and forget
my name
as soon as
you do.

 


Goya’s Rabbit

Originally written when I was in high school in the early 1970s — roughly 1974, if the notebook it resides in is to be believed.
Revised and first posted online, 2010.

Goya drew a rabbit
that began digging 
through walls of sand
to get to you.

It longed for blood,
perhaps because he drew
the incisors
that way.

Great art comes alive,
goes to new places,
ravenous for
the unexpected.

When it comes for you
don’t assume
what you’ve always offered
will be enough to feed it.

That rabbit
became a carnivore
because Goya
allowed for it, understanding

that in spite of what
we’ve been told, the work of
Creation didn’t stop
at the end of a week —

it was merely
turned over
to new
sets of hands.