reincarnation
sometime,
during the next day or so when things smell so snappy,
I’d like to invite you along to help test out my senses
isn't better to get a candid opinion?
for reassurance,
to further the struggle?
at dawn, stretching in our favorite park
while my dog sat barking at a statue,
a friend thought out loud how the story about animals sensing spirits might be playing out
“sure”, I agreed, “but convince me this could be proof of the existence of reincarnation.”
“I think the theory goes that in one of the animal’s previous lives it may have encountered
that guy who that statue was erected for."
“so my dog could have once been human and was aware of this man?"
my friend remarked: “maybe...the statue is a guy named Councilman McGraw who lived at the time of the turn of the century”
“well good- so my dog may have known him to be some fascist by nature and of course displayed its resentment by its barking?”
“or", I speculated on, "my dog, Maxwell, could have really been a dog then, or any other animal at the time of McGraw’s life, and had been mistreated by him. Or perhaps Maxwell had been some poor schlep who had lost his job, and while roaming around some heavily populated area of town searching for a crust of bread, ran into Councilman McGraw who in his arrogance and self-righteousness, began heaving rocks at the fellow.”
my friend: “hey, doesn’t Maxwell have a big old scar on his hind leg?”
“yes, no one remembers how he got it, but sometimes in when it's cold outside, he drags that leg noticeably”
ANIMALS ARE BLESSED WITH LESSONS
TO TEACH US ALL,
PLUS OTHER ODD EVENTS THAT COULD INCLUDE SKIPPING
d
o
w
n
w
a
r
d
STAIRS
PIZZA PIE FLAKES SHOOTING OUT YOUR ASSHOLE
DURING
A
LATE
MORNING
SHIT
OR
THINKING ABOUT THAT PERSON WHO SAID:
“the thing to be done is to satisfy them all- pacify them all into submission!”
All semester she acquainted herself with the basis of our capitalistic-economic-profit-making-at-all-costs-greed-is-great-long-live-materialism system!
But whether she agreed or not with her findings, her professor had made the point clear enough
the next morning we got up quite early,
and while I began chopping wood for breakfast,
she washed what was left of the dishes we had broken.
somewhere on the ledge of the window,
hanging out the remaining plates on the clothesline out to dry, she resumed her belated stage of thought:
“incidentally, I’m thinking of becoming a cleaning woman”
“Jesus, I've always tried to be a neorealist!”
telepathically interrupting her thoughts,
I remembered the front porch
where the pile of puke still lay smoldering
see, when I woke up today
I knew something smelled like a dead animal
(the room sure didn’t smell of smoke)
distant, so far gone thoughts
again melt back into the
DITCH!
so considerate of this space,
I have decided to fill it up with something solid
the way graves are filled in cemeteries
you’ve often asked me if all these loose ends
could somehow be tied together…?
okay, here's my final attempt to it:
STOP MAKING ANY SENSE!!!
HERE IS THE LEFT THE RIGHT IS HERE
(SOCIETY) (ANARCHY)
well then, so where are the woods?
somewhere in between?
Jack London was also confused, right?
come on, really, man!
seriously, please tell me which way to the woods?
(to be decoded)
RETFA
NGITAUDARG
MORF
EFIL
ONE EVENTUALLY FIGURES OUT ONE’S TRUTH
1969