The Parade
The cosmos swirls
And the One opens
To show me the others
Who have gone before.
Many never recognized
As worthy aspirants
As the blind cannot see who it is
They attempt to label
And one by one
I watch
As they
Fall from the sky
Skid into the turn
Drive off the cliff
Place hot pokers into their eyes
Their ears
and
Accept breaths of praise
That inflate their heads
Until distorted
And then
Pop.
And my own breath draws in sharply
And my heart becomes icy
And I whisper, “Please, not me.”
The great
The misguided
The delusional
All miss this tiny door
They grope in pain
In false pleasures
Until they are gone.
And I wonder
If I also harbor
This blind spot and worry
How I may light it?
Otherwise
Another poet
Will one day lament the same
Of me.
---unAsleep