poetry

drinking the Kool Aid

drinking the Kool Aid

after months of being careful
the boys froze
as I took water from the priest’s bowl
and brought it to my lips
I nodded to them
it’s okay
they hesitated
then did the same

why? they asked later
it’s Besakih, the Mother Temple
the blessing’s worth the risk

today floating in the bottle green depths
of the pelucid Pelorus
that once held dwarves afloat
they asked me
can we drink it?

here we were
in a space sacred to them
I hesitated then nodded
just a little I said
and we all took a bit of magical river
into our very selves

poetry

waterless ocean

waterless ocean

it’s a curious feeling
this waterless ocean
sea + sand but no
bathing floating quenching

the water does all its usual things
but not to us

chock full of crocs with restless jaws
and box jellies that would unwittingly kill us
(the sign warns apply vinegar
+ immediately begin CPR –
the pain’s so excruciating
it’ll truly stop your heart)

we wander the shore
like Victorian ladies
who for now must keep
our lacy petticoats dry

poetry

off the beaten path

off the beaten path

straddling intrepid and foolhardy
being brave yet reasonable
managing risk and reward
fear and amazement
like balancing black and white checks
on the temple guardians’
chessboard sarongs