PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

"essays from Alex"

i buried alex
in the best box sold for 200 dollars
unsure if it would break inside the earth
rumbling like a sore throat
destroying everything.

the Heart of Darkness
is an automobile crawling along the Atlantic towards home
as if falling with the wind
through America's
gas stations of sadness and loss

we only see the steps in front of us
to go and to return
the moreness of the future
looming
like a blinding spiral
too high to imagine.

how many Hindu spirits does it take
to raise from the mulch of the earth
three days late
and turn from beetles into fair maidens
and when they return again
do they know what's coming
from studying the Vedas
have they come and gone so many times
to not expect the bright light and voices
or multi-armed goddesses who are all virgin symbols of fertility
do they pray
not to be slugs or chambermaids
who will be chambermaids forever in some Indian slum
I buried Alex in the ground
and no one else had seen his face
and the gills carved into his arm did he think
the Christian afterlife an ocean

or was this just his third time
and he felt that i, who had made the trip, should know that
he didn't really expect to meet anyone special
maybe he just wanted me to miss him more
than to expect from him any great romance
unseen in the future.