Finn Udall

Finn Udall Poems

The Best Poem Of Finn Udall

Infinite Eyes

I call to the butterfly
But it has no ears
Fluttering its mindless way through the empty space of air
As it jumps and skips
On the wind like a whiffle ball

The quiet flier flits past three large men
Two of whom are smiling
As the other looks wistfully about him

It's OK gentlemen
Come through and do not be afraid

As they come through the wood
I watch from a bird's eye view
The point man, sweating and surveying
The columns of green flesh before him

He is especially pleased with one
Particularly Corinthian redwood, which he
Singles out to the others with a raised finger
That shakes like a brittle twig
Extended from his knuckle
Against the wind

I cannot express to you how proud and elated I am
That these men are so impressed with a part of me
That I have created

But then I reconsider

There is something hot
Behind the men's eyes, I can feel it
Through my rough membranes
And I can see it

As I scrutinize, my infinite eyes
Catch a certain intent in the men's step
A certain twitch in their muscles
An undeniable fervor in the knots in their foreheads
And those grins

They reach the tree
And they start hacking me
Driving thick metal blades
Into the soft flesh of me
Passing jagged metal teeth
Across the brown mess of me
Until all that's left of me
Is everything except for that solitary falling redwood

All I can wish for is that I had been given
A mouth with which to scream

Pointedly ignoring the pain,
I focus my infinite eyes on a new scene

The green is gone
And replaced with a swaying rustic orange-tan
Where old folks traverse a smooth footpath
Their boots caress me and soothe my skin
So I let them in

They walk far past the point when it seems
That their ancient bodies
Should break apart and crumble
And they are still smiling, shining

What reputable folk

They reach a crook in the trail
Where lies a small clearing in me
And they, working as the equivalent
Of a calmer anthive,
Tie ropes around my protrusions
And drape synthetic fiber
Over their object of comfort
To protect them from my perspiration

The strain is significant,
But they are good people
And I do not complain

As night falls, the good people
Pile my stones together in a rough circle
And as blue becomes purple and purple black
I am snapped awake from reverie
By the crack of twigs and branches
Being ripped from my grasp

Afraid and confused, struck with inaction
I can only let things unfold

The collected bits of me
Are thrown into the pit with honor
And covered with gasoline
A small plastic spark-container sends forth contents
Which catch in the air
And send my parts into slow oblivion
Thick transfer from the world of the living into
The world of dead

I am silently crying on fire
And with each passing scene all of my infinite eyes become a little more red

The darkness instantly gives way
To a bright white day-glare
Where the immense heat makes the air
Seem to shimmer

The slaves of great Khufu
Are marched across the open ocean of sands

(What a marvelous ruler)
(What a figure of fantastic wealth)

His workers' backs feel the whip
As they stumble, supervised, into the quarry
Where they are ordered to cut me into
Equal, perfect portions

As they chip, chip, chip away
Khufu's greatness dies in my eyes
And is replaced with a great cruelty

The picks work against me
Severing me from myself
At strategic intervals
So that the lonesome parts
Of my stone carapace
Can be wheeled up the ramps and away
With amazing efficiency

This is all so calculated

As chunk after chunk is shorn away
I can feel a weight nearby

The blocks are deposited in a deathly unnatural
Square formation, with each side slanting
Up towards a single point in the sky

This is what a bad omen looks like

The weight of the burden
Cannot be shaken off
And no matter where my energy is focused
The gravity of that structure is there
With me

I blink the tears away from my infinite eyes
And focus my blurred sight anew

A silver wind picks up the moments of snow
And blows them haphazardly across
The undotted cold blanket
My vantage is a birds-eye, and I spot
A solitary figure tramping through the fluff

His footprints trail behind him
Like an elongated and warped shadow

What light does he follow?

As this determined hardy creature
Travels over me with such respectful austerity
I realize that I have learned my lesson

This man is only human
He cannot help but do me harm

So when he comes to the right spot
And cuts a clean hole in my carapace
And throws his fishing line in,
I am ready

I use my force to grab his hook
And fling him into the water
Where he coughs and sputters
Seeking escape
But there is none

He is pulled by something imaginary
Into the ocean's depths, where he freezes
Once solid, he sinks into the ground
Shattering into countless pieces
Of ice, blood, and bone

All across my spherical shell,
Vengeance takes its forms
I am a giant ball of vindication

In a forest, a woodsman's ankle
Is seized by a vine as he is helplessly whipped about
His body is relieved of oxygen
When his back is thrown forcefully
Into a thick trunk,
Shattering the vertebrae
And leaving an amorphous pile of skin to bury

The desert is an oven,
Burning men running,
Searching out new spots to cook,
Or kneeling with their hands clasped.
I will not answer them

The ebony children splashing
In the Amazon are quietly, quickly picked off
By newly hungry crocodiles, and the blood in the water
Only further fuels the animals' hunger-fever

Houses are uprooted on the coastlines,
Full of screaming families

Great cities are swallowed into the magma
Underneath my protective crusts

Cowards run and cowards hide,
But there is no escape on a completely round planet

Everywhere you look, I look
Everywhere you see, I see
And as the murderous breed, mankind,
Is forever wiped away like an inconspicuous stain
My infinite eyes relax, and even sparkle



My burdens are all lifted
I am free from strain and obligation
And through these desperate and bloody acts
I have found an ecstasy, an enlightenment,
A resolution to anxiety,
And I admit no reservations

Finn Udall Comments