''Let be the finale of seem.' - Wallace Stevens, from 'The Emperor of Ice Cream'
'I want to ride to the ridge where the West commences
and gaze at the moon till I lose my senses.' - lines from the song 'Don't Fence Me In'
The photo's of the Shrine in my old apartment, 20 years on East 10th. I hear drunken
Trungpa grunt about a 'spiritual antique shop'. I ignore him as he crawls into a jug of
Gallo Tawny Port and grows his liver big as a Kali Yuga,
'May I call you, once-guru, Sir Roses (cirrhosis) ? '
The one Black Mouse what refused to leave the place made it's bed behind Ganesha's head
for years, nosed around in the dried flowers, lavender on its little breath. 'If you are death
wag my finger! ' I loudly announce on the verge of an insight the night of the massive
earthquake in Iran many years back, the room at 2 am suddenly gone very cold, all those
newly dead souls piling in, but I could not say it, what it was I was on the edge of as Sir
Roses suddenly kicked the Kwan Yin statue over and scoffed, told me with disgust to 'grow
a set of dorjes, fer Chrissakes.'
'You are cut off! ' was all I managed to get out when Black Mouse leapt out from behind
Ganesha's head and blew lavender dust all over the dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem