Fifty eight years ago.
She doesn’t care that I lied to her
In a previous life.
(Gods only care about two things:
That we believe in them and
That we like our own smell.)
(I am receiving acupuncture. . .)
Do you feel that?
I’m not feeling anything.
Oh, there it is. I’m feeling that
My mother was cross with me. . .
(I must speak before my lips turn to wax.)
I lied
. . .to my mother.
But worse than that, to my goddess.
You lied?
I said I would rest
And I didn’t rest.
I said I would fight
But I traded my sword for something to eat.
I said I would be a river,
. . .I was a bridge.
I promised I would weep
But I laughed.
I said I would eat well
But my whole plate
Was devoured by flies.
Look over there.
That’s where I should be!
Look in here
At this great empty hall!
What are you remembering?
Many years ago,
When my father’s doctor x-rayed my heart
He pretended he couldn’t find it.
He said he saw three lungs!
Breathe.
Last night
The moon splashed her full light across my face.
As if to say:
Am I not more beautiful than the sun?
Yes, yes, but it’s 3:00 in the morning!
If you fall asleep
I will never find you again.
She has been saying that
Since the beginning
And I always believe her
But she always finds me.
She wants me to be the next Buddha. . .
And will you be?
We all will.