STARLIGHT, NO FOOL LIGHT
taciturn,
above the hill
Sees dead star bones,
sky watchers, and vultures,
Sees matter
running out,
timed out
and fading fast.
Where are the butchers,
bakers and candlestick makers?
Watching reruns in the
starlight.
Past old films and the
making of films,
Past the camera’s spinning
cadences,
Past the purgatory of
lost stories,
Past guilded endings
and unguided endings,
With characters all in
each other’s
fates and faces,
plates and palettes,
All stories,
when purged,
Merge into the peerless
whiteness
that precedes the telling of stories.
Glory, glory be
After the gore
And fracture of all delivery
systems,
Matter,
benumbed, benighted,
Matter forgot,
matter bummed out,
Matter,
mangled and barely alive
Still manages
a smile.