When I Walk out of this World
The blindness comes in the afternoon
At night when the wheat and eels sleep
It comes in the morning and the walls go deaf
No one hears the ringing of the bells
There are no bells and
there is no one there
No ear, no tongue, nothing to taste
water or salt or cold, ringing air
Blindness comes in the afternoon
When I bow my head
and walk out of this world
Dog growls, rain falls, the sun whirls
into wreckage in the afternoon
Across the walls of sleeping rooms
a frightened captive plunging fire
ignites a carpet of dust
The little ones wait for dinner
but it will not come
There is an orange odor here
Brittle, febrile
Rich as dung
Sharp as a glancing blow
But no one comes to gather it up
There is no arrival
This afternoon there is no letter
and no song at dusk
and no one waits at the dimming gate
We’ve all forgotten
Blindness comes in the afternoon
Suddenly
Without warning
When I bow my head
and walk out of this world
The arc of stars and
that horizon always running away
Planets pulse, ripe and dripping
So much iron and phosphor
So much lemon and wood
There’s feasting tonight
In towns other than this one
Come
Put on your shoes
You don’t want to die like this
with the rats skittering over you
I would go with you
this afternoon
to the place where you get the water
I would sing you a last song
if it were not already too late
03-23-18