Sarah Sarai

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Best Poem of Sarah Sarai

I Noticed The 21st Is Ascension Day.

You’re heading true north
but truth is elusive, useless
even. Incorporeal monads
have soul. Corporeal monads
got it rough. And I think therefore
divides man and beast merely.  
After that it’s a free-for-all.  
The roots of monasticism,
I learned last night, are in
plain sight, mono, one body
being ample for a lifetime.  

In six days you will be
dust (or not) , perspective
being everything and a bias.  
In six days in your eyes
the shebang:  a speck approaching or
receding.  Happy birthday.

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