Venezuela
In my mind still
fresh
that absence that puzzled me
Death
the very thing that makes all possible
wasn't there.
Feral objects,
beasts made illusion.
A cloudy white clawed totem
polar bear.
A lion so lion, a black so raven,
a hippo so tamus, a hare so hare.
A monkey's paw and all its curses,
a rabbit foot and all its fingers.
I spot the spotted snow
leopard. That crocodile
smiles
as if it was a nurse in other life.
Handsome giraffe retired from the zoo,
taken away by Death
and given back its soul.
Yes, its soul.
Eagle, pigeon, pheasant, owl.
The birds take back their language:
So feathery a feather
is so soft
it feels so much
like angel's oil
a tickle
in a cop's palm.
Don't touch, no pictures,
please.
Shut the door behind you
quick. Death
is not here.
So many tails waiting for me
to step on them.
Cinderella howling. Beauty
crafted at the verge of sculpture.
No pictures
please you shouldn't
walk away with proof.
Only the tale
like in a dry dream.
No pictures please
but
there is one
leaning against
a two-headed calf:
a man, thumbs up,
holding a framed tarantula.
It was his son's.
It crashed
and crushed
hairy legs crystal smashed
and pieced back together.
Taken away from death twice,
by appointment only.
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