TWO BY BARRY SPACKS
TO BE SPARED
First night at this Artists'
Place
I'm trying to sleep
on my narrow bed
but words for poems keep coming on,
it's flashlight, scribble, back to drowse
till the next line knocks,
death not to answer,
awake for two days
straight in the dark
near four a.m. I'm thinking enough,
enough of these pretty turns of phrase,
let's sleep -- but then
with a gathering chill
I sit, the blanket thin at my shoulders,
trembling, for now some aspect of God is near,
poised to enter the screen door
and all at once my being
turns hard:
No. Whatever You are, please, no.
Nothing. Silence. And never again
did power like that approach my door.
I'd prayed to be spared,
unready, but now,
if I have a prayer, Consume Me, I'd cry,
Great Fire! All my doors lie open.
I'm waiting here with my welcome.
AFTER AN ANCIENT TEXT
Two silly minor gods
decided to check out Shui Ma,
known even in the heavens
for her magic, and her beauty.
Now when gods, even minor,
boyish gods,
visit humans, they must get
exactly whatever it is
they want:
reverence, room-service
--
no argument.
So when these two smirkers
ordered
"The best food known
to mortals,
and let it be served by
Shui Ma...
plus wait, oh yes,
have her come to us
in stirring nakedness,"
naked and smiling she served
them,
godlings transformed by her magic
to babes
she fed at her breasts.
Barry
Spacks is a regular contributor to Blue Moon.
We hope you like his work as much as we do.
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