NARCISSUS IN QUARANTINE
If I were an armadillo, each scale a mirror,
I could represent others instead of myself,
I could reflect multitudes.
If I were a summer horsefly,
I could soar along the wind like a green-armored dragon,
and swoop down and rescue witches from the stake,
singeing some tips of my whiskers like flexible piano-wires.
If I were a window, would I think I was the wind's eye?
If I were a very bad person,
would I think I was a good person?
If I were a roast,
would I prepare a platter in the presence of my enemies and their forks and knives?
If I were delicious, would I honor the horseradish?
Jesus sat in the middle of one side of the long table,
his head luminous as a light bulb with his idea of being God,
his long goddish hair tossing during the blessing.
There was rush-hour traffic of holiness around his head.
If I played God, I would play him wearing a mouse's head.
I would play him as a girl, running upstairs on all pink fours.
When I lay myself down to sleep, now,
I pray I will dream of kindness given and received,
I pray to the coils and meats of my brain
to be healed of my disbelief in my average goodness.
(Sharon Olds)
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Rush hour traffic of holiness around his head...beautiful.