10/09/2014
Go to the temple,
it’s either silent or roaring.
Step stones worn smooth,
cool foundations, damp, unintended grass.
Call in under the door cloths.
Silence, brought to life by wind
And by an echoing whistle.
Peer into the door.
Wispy voice: “It’s only a festival to the Heavens.”
Holy ones live in the cemetery
around the temple. They shelter in crypts.
Shiva cadges a cigarette.
Vishnu loans you his life.
Big Brah is nowhere seen.
Rev 10/9/14
An incident. The memory somehow tied to a time in Santa Fe when my third eye fell open at Aldana’s Restaurant on Cerillos Rd. I wasn’t sure what was what, Then I notice, Vivona remarks it, the couple across the room smile and wave. Reminder: wear a hat and shades.