Worship
Have you ever heard someone calling you from
the opposite shore
exquisitely crafted arms hanging
joyous women friends blow smoke from their eyes,
have thrice tied golden bracelets to their hair
gypsy card readers threw strange cards on the sand
they open wide their gigantic black eye
here, they say, and push the card in the sand with
their finger
Harlots have angry hats on their heads
and they don’t have a golden bracelet
they don’t have yellow tobacco
of a dream or happiness
though they have a line of golden teeth
they say, perhaps you don’t
the teeth you see.
We have them for our lovers
we understand your pain,
we agree.
They all agree
as a stench of agreement blooms, the angelic life
my angelic people, golden angels
rub your swollen eyes with rosewater
here, a little down the road, is the god’s house
(there are many gods, don’t be surprised)
then, this god
accepts both Spring and Thunderbolt
come with me, I’ll introduce him to you.
Otherwise, you’ll remain like an Easter without a red egg
like the beggar who doesn’t know what to do with his pan
like the woman who doesn’t know what to do with her kiss
like the shepherd who is searching for his lost sheep
who while wandering, got lost in the chaos of his soul.
