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Saturday, August 7, 2010

A Merry Life and a Short One

I had no captain to begin with.
The navigator was a basket case.

All compasses went haywire and the anchor rusted through.
The birds mocked me as they took the sails
This man is the opposite of what he wants to be!

Tired of being a stingray in a world where meaning has no time
to be established as the continents I witnessed move,
I saluted all flags, I accepted
all things.

Very soon I was marooned.

The whales were speaking in kazoo.

Comets and sea turtles
told me secrets and lies.
I took my pages from the proverbs of a given sky
prayed with one hand and an ocean wave—
Give me my pineapple wine!

I thought I was really something.

Then I wondered
why no hunters
blazed in search of me
across horizons bluer than cologne;

why I'd left no wake of golden bones
and found my torture,
a Manila fortune,
in nothing but new days now shining
too bright to be healthy or real.

One morning
my head wide as the sky
I could not tell if I was breathing
because I was the air

counting the silver
stars up above
listening into the glistening,

a black magician for good.

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