Together, Poets

I invite you to this one-minute vesper

where us heartstrong little Druids

write and memorize poetry—

mnemonic memory palaces

that split the psyche.

Here is our lame prayer:

Dear animating Beloveds,

take our tantric bodies

to Elysian Fields and subjugate

us with the promise of making

our poetry eternal.

Better yet, let’s keep our mouths shut

for a moment and offer up pineapple instead,

chunks of edicts and silent performances

in the theatre of Ahimsa  

Or let’s just talk to the birds:

we allow you to live any

way you choose.

You are the diamond vehicle,

points of hard singularity and similarity

found in our versus.

And as we take leave,

the son of Shiva and Parvati

is pointing at us with his broken tusk,

telling us the meters in

our bones are hapless

without one another.

So, brethren, let us keep offering

the wafers of our songs

and metaphors, the mice

that can reach even the smallest places.