Saturday, December 9
LIGHT A CANDLE Be a prophet, said no one, ever. Be in pain, and either blind or mad because nothing comes free, and the tunnel excavating futures capsizes darkly. Be alone, and have no one believe you. Sleep badly while the glow from your eyes illuminates dirty bedroom walls. Be there before it ever happens and still be too late. What kind of sick curse becomes destiny, no line between character and fate, each push to life pushed back from an equal and opposite direction? Beware: when each day your two cupped beggar palms try to gather light like water and catch nothing. Be afraid of the things that move within you. Belladonna night consumes you, thick with creatures---eyeless and dreaming. Be careful not to know too much before they cut out your tongue, curse your words to wander like flightless birds. Truth beckons, bewitching and slick. Do not believe. The future will call, like gold-warm fleece, dawning sun, like one candle in the yawning dark. Look away. (Arah Ko)