GRAVE
A 1999 hallucination/optical illusion in verse, by Chris Wayan.
Across my street, a robed woman stands in an open grave. A man in orange vestments spades dirt upon her head. She's only a foot or two high, so even here in Frisco, I misdoubt she's human. Sure looks like Mary, though. Hail Mary, buried alive!
But not alive for long:
Eyes no longer young. |
Do all religions root in our demise? We myopics constellate Orion in the night, or Mary in the grave, or gods behind all, or life beyond the pall: Illusions we are built to build. Fantasy-willed, fantasy-filled.
Ah, this sandy streetside grave,
And yet, my night-vision's true. |
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