Tuesday, August 19, 2014

5809. HORTICULTURAL ZOO

HORTICULTURAL ZOO
Zooming in is so like that  :  someone comes
by and asks my shoe size, I say home fries. The
guard says 'he lies.' It's something of the moment.
Are we really peripheral to what goes on or just
unnecessary for the run of things? I never stopped
a tree from blooming, nor a flower from coming
to life. There's a picture of a silly Pope doing the
Limbo in Korea, or the Twist in Albuquerque. 
Well then, what's the difference in your anomaly?
Do they teach it in school? Is it given away? Right
now, like a Pope too, in my own eastern rite, I am 
guarding the Ganges from its fear of the human plague. 
All those rolling folk, bathing and burning their dead 
on its shores. Float that pyre, with its burning cargo, 
down the river of hope. Your fine, foreign mettle. 
Your raging but so gentle scene. This all makes me 
happy, somewhere within. Every life ends in crud, 
and this should be no exception.


No comments: