Wednesday, March 19, 2008

The Barbarian's Garden


Here’s a spade and a defibrillator. To the cemetery!
Don’t doubt every element was once siphoned to the sun’s
pit and spit out, or that when we dream of death we see light.
Here’s my resume. None of its true. I’m both apache in union
uniform and an evangelical with a late night t.v. bonus blessing.
Though I want to walk outside I cannot find the perimeter. Want
out to see in? Good luck. To see past the mirror the glass
must be backlit. I’m too busy looking at myself, anyways.
So please, take a stone instead. Split it in two
repeatedly, still unallowed to witness inside.

1 comment:

wolves for breakfast said...

i enjoy this poem. it feels somewhat inspired by dean young, by whom i am also inspired. i think what makes this sort of poem work is an underlying structure that you must fastiduously stick yourself too. apparently, i spelled fastiduously wrong.