Ian Elliorr

Ian Elliorr Poems

After all of that, you died like any ordinary man;
Then, the extraordinary: Hidden by disciples for two months!
What will they make of it?
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The Best Poem Of Ian Elliorr

Castaneda's Death

After all of that, you died like any ordinary man;
Then, the extraordinary: Hidden by disciples for two months!
What will they make of it?

Meanwhile, are you waiting for Juan and Genaro,
Hovering in that immense white dome
In the perfect world of beautiful red bugs?

Or have you been tipped into the Eagle’s beak?

Did you burn with the fire from within,
And did the Tenant hitch a ride,
Or did you leave her dangling,
Like your whilom wife and child?

Did you dance for your death on your place of predilection,
And did it squat there, watching?

Are you sitting quietly in a lodge for departed shamans,
Or sweating in a Catholic hell for your shenanigans?

Or is it possible nothing much has happened,
Just an ordinary man dying in seclusion?

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