AT THE CROSSROADS
At the crossroads, our gods always entertained us
and we left gifts enough to satisfy wild dogs, selfish spirits
and jackals. Saturday night, late. (Perhaps Sunday morning, early),
our gods watched us imprison two men deep in the sand
until only their heads were exposed. Strangers, they did not belong.
Suddenly the earth began to roll releasing a fresh spring.
Carob trees sprouted out of nowhere and there was shade and refreshment,
An angel appeared badly disfigured as a foreign trader.
Not able to fold her wings, she kneeled before both men.
There was no need for all of this. These men were different..
They deserved punishment, but she knew of them what we did not.
With a look she silenced us into another place.
An earthquake was not necessary to set them free.
This, too, happened at the crossroad.
HOW TO GET A GHOST TO
MOVE OUT OF YOUR HOUSE
Do not bite a ghost.
They are chalk
And have no taste. You
can add sage, salt,
Pepper, even garlic.
It will make no difference.
Do not clean
everything everyday.
Ghosts are blindsided
by dust in light.
But remember to remove
every cobweb.
Ghosts are famous for
collecting spiders and flies.
If these rules are not
enough,
Go on living. Forget
about them.
They will move
someplace else.
Ghosts are obsessed
with being remembered.
THINGS I NEED TO DO
Make sure the doors are
locked,
find the heart with the
weight of a feather
for the heaven or hell
scale of Anubis,
paint your portrait with
the colours of stone,
dig out a puddle for the
grandkids,
drop the wall of
consternation into the pool of doubt--
The sky broken hearted,
full of blue,
the slight timbre of
koras and pluriarc,
a murmur of storm within
band formation--
Every flip, every leap,
every jump into a split,
the judging platform
empty because I now remember,
everyone stuck in
traffic, within a staff of trebles--
and before I go to sleep
and dream the dream of dreams,
I must free the great
bird of prey from the Temple of Skulls
deep in the valley of
pyramids and jungle reeds.
Michael
H. Brownstein’s latest volume of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else was
recently published by Cholla Needles Press (2018).
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