Cigarettes & Crackers.
May 15, 2007
The Earth, splitting
at its axis,
makes the world
lopsided since
1837.
I stand at
the equator,
staring
at the stars.
They speak
worlds to my soul.
I begin to
crumble.
I glance toward
the sun
it reflecting I,
I reflecting it.
My bones crush
into dust.
Collapsing,
I see heaven
and my
mind opens at
the
seam.
The devil
jumps out
of his dilapitaded
dormitory,
wreaking of
cigarettes
and
stale crackers.
He roots himself
in the ground
and out sprouts
metaphors
and similes.
Mind and
body.
Soul and
rhythm.
