The
Secret is
To be silent,
Wear
Rubber gloves,
A shaman’s mask,
Gaze
Without blinking
Into the North,
And decode
What the
Wind tells you.
Don’t
Ask me
Why but the
Shaman’s
Mask must
Bear a strange
Resemblance
To the
Statue of Liberty.
Take
A tip
From she who
Wields
The blade
Of kali: allow
Yourself
To become
Possessed. Your inhalations
Are
Exhalations of
Another being. Do
Not
Wait for
The signal before
Crossing.
I haven’t even
Mentioned the light,
But
Your blue
Dress and your
Beautiful
Mouth are
Blinding. The billboard’s
Promise
Is blinding.
The apartments blocks,
The
Puffy little
Clouds that drift
Across
The you
Know what they
Drift
Across are
Blinding. Feelin’ all
Right?
Not feelin’
Too good myself.
Taking
Photos of
These photos is
A
Form of
Insanity. The yellow
Paint
On the
Nearest curb is
Chipping.
What is
That big white
Thing
On the
Horizon? The Washington
Monument?
Whatever it
Is, it’s enduring
Evidence
Of something.
Whatever it is,
It's
Sorta kreepy.
Maybe it explains
Why
Last night
I dreamt that
Kathy
Killed me.
With an axe,
I
Think … or
A big blade,
Like
A machete.
I didn't fight.
She
Had to.
We both knew
It
Was for
The good of
Humanity.
It had
To do with
The
Environment. There
Were no hard
Feelings ...
Weird to
Watch my last
Thoughts
Fade. They
Were drawn on
A
Blackboard, with
Circles around them.
Some
Were zeroes.
Some were names.
[Note: Sources: Michelle Bautista, “Kali Poetics”, “Year of the Dog”, in Kali’s Blade; Dave Mason, “Feelin” All Right”; The Oxford Universal Dictionary; Marcos López, “The Caracas manifesto”, in Marcos López: Sub-realismo criollo; a real dream. Photo: “Criollo carnival”]
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