The Man Who Wasn't There

For Ashraf and family

I remember walking, then nothing, then
a crack thud cacophony and unholy heat
flesh rent and welded, yielding
macabre meat mash sculptures
carelessy flung upon adze edged mounds
ex-spaces ex-homes ex-lives ex-posed.
With nacrous eyes and metallic mouth I rose.
I noted my legs moved - but not for long.
I collapsed, grateful for the advice to lie down,
and the warm blanket offered.
In the dust, I found myself lost.

What can be named that doesn't exist?

A soft fog dissolves first the edges
then the material of my matter
I am haunted by dim bells and Gregorian chants
A faint scent of dew-bound Magnolia
sweetens my breath and slowly numbs my nose
My hands gently folded,
I rest in peace.

When Words Are Not Enough - Warning:Graphic Reality 1 2 3 4



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