in the face of the absurd, we made hats out of felt
and danced the existential dance. we had learned
from an early age that we had to light our own torches,
our mothers and fathers too busy in the cave watching
their own shadows to raise us the way we should have
been. to kill ourselves or not to kill ourselves, that was
the question everyday upon waking and tucking in. such
responsibility often filled our stomachs with nausea
and it was adrift in that sea that we contemplated
the meaning of refrigerators and electronic devices.
the swill of the divine was in our throats, and we cut
the head off fate, carrying it on a pike through the streets,
unsure of what to do next, but doing it all the same.
we found the names of our lovers in
the ouija board and wrote them on curled
bits of paper, surrendering them to wind
that might manifest a dark-eyed pillar of
earth. traces of fire on his teeth. our
mothers put fig leaves over the tarot card
lovers, but we knew what to expect.
casting stones, we examined the tea leaves
to see how many children we would have,
young bodies aching to be occupied.
i replaced my eye with a quartz crystal
and caught a glimpse of your shadow
through rainbow inclusions. the future
we knew already, a pendulum swinging
over the word yes. yes, we had
tucked our souls away in aged trees
for safe-keeping. yes, i always knew
you and death would come. i waited
with my arms clasped over my heart,
light as a feather, stiff as rigor mortis.