To consider it,
is to drink it spiritually. Why
is spirit fluid, when
we are not? If wine is spirit, is not water, too? Why our constant
need for transformation? For spirit as intoxication? For the radical
trope that gets us off a
sound stage into padded cell
where all that's heard is heart beat and breath. Alone, we never yet
arrive at solitude. The
bearded man in a wing suit jumps from a helicopter, flies through a
triangle in the rock's face. Or, the French billiards player makes
balls do what balls cannot. This passes for science on our
television, but we prefer
miracles. Radhika loved
the guy who made 100 dollar bills out of ones. But what of the
man who does the reverse,
brings wing-man back to earth, pockets his balls and goes to lunch?
Do we not honor him with just
reward, absence of shoe leather or tablet? One
commandment instead of 10? Let
go, says mind to self, interrupting. Rude, mind.
--25
January 2015
1 comment:
I am sorry to reach out this way, but unable to find other contact information.
I am a friend of Sarith Peou and he requested I contact you to talk about the possibility of future publications. He has been producing a memoir and/or many short stories.
my email: pauladesanto@yahoo.com
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