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septiembre :: cuatro

4.
in the shadow of the volcano I kneel. I kneel on a rock and look down and out. I offer something of myself to the sea around me and to the lava pushing up up up from the center core to the brimming edge. all this activity behind me, but I am still and searching humbly. I am very very small. everything else is big and dramatic, colossal. massive rivers flood, winds whirl and turn somersaults, lava gushes. I look closely at a pebble, next to another pebble and another. I kneel and I float. I see stars.

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septiembre :: tres

3. a fish is the sea. the sea is a cloud. the cloud billows like smoke. a woman hides in the folds of the cloud and raises her hands to float up. her face is calm but surprised. below the cloud, at the bottom of the sea, crowding around the fish’s mouth is a town of people as small as ants. they have just begun a great expedition and the look to the lady in the sky for guidance. they wish their way to outstreached arms and floating surprised eyes.

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septiembre :: dos

2.
you hide in a cave that looks like the trunk of a tree. outside the fox waits. and waits. you will not come out. your back to the exit. you face the deep dark inside of the tree cave. above your cave on the mountaintop that could be the top branch of a tree, a large bird, let’s call it a hawk, rests and stretches. she spreads her massive wings, looking carefully at each feather as though counting, or as though she knows each one by name and color and placement. she too waits. she and the fox wait for you. you are huddled in a ball and you are never coming out of this cave tree. never.

fast approaching is a witch. well maybe just an ordinary woman with a pointy hat, but a woman and she wears a cape or a big robe. she knows lots of things and she carries this knowledge in the palms of her hands cupped and reaching out towards you and your nest. she has a monkey with her that dances a path clear for her as she comes closer and closer to your lair. you are never coming out, not even for the witch lady and the monkey. though the monkey is cute and adorable, and has a chance of seducing you away from your inner wall. beyond the fox and the witch is a forest. beyond the hawk, the sky. you are in the cave treetrunk you cannot see what is beyond that; but it’s out there. you will stay where you are.

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septiembre :: uno

septiembre

1.
el mundo se rompio. crumbling at your feet. you have left things for too long. you recline on a chez lounge, but the ground beneath is loose and shaken. in the distance beyond the horizon, low to the edge of what you can see and what you can’t, a wisp of smoke whistles up. gathering around it are small boulders, wispy and quiet rolling towards the center, reaching up up up to the tip of the smoke that breathes hot and garbled thruths.

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01.09.08


















two mountains face each other
the valley between is deep and dark
thick as mud

one mountain sustains mudslides and avalanches
the other a rooster perches at the very top crowing
his tail like a peacock folded beneath him a blanket over the northern slope

I feel suspended between the two hovering over the valley
head turning right left right left
look down
my heart sinks
I cannot have both
and one without the other does not appeal
but I cannot keep floating here above the two peaks looking down at the long sliding sloping abyss