Stream of Consciousness, 26X52, watercolor, Gary Buhler
*
And the river falling into you
lies down the way you are fed
by stones that no longer open
as rain and your breath
never seen again, left in the dirt
these graves are used to
is all they know -with each meal
a far off night bursts into flames
once it’s singled out, fills your mouth
as if it would not happen twice
and yet you eat only in cemeteries
in a sea whose water has dried
to become for the dead
a new language, easy to whisper
over and over and the heading.
_____________
Simon Perchik