The Urban Elf

-
Salt and sandpaper
Whiskey and tobacco
The moments we escape for
Where does the time go?

Muscle fur and teeth
Grappling in the darkness
Wild animals underneath
With sweat comes sweetness

Tangled like wrestlers
Surrender with honor
Grunting our secret vespers
Spilled on the altar

I have apparently contracted some sort drifting viral annoyance. A tedious caravan of microscopic interlopers insufficiently committed to actually lay one out flat on a proper Mimi-like sick bed. No, these particular invisible gremlins take it as their mission merely to hamper hinder and annoy while leaving their host nominally upright and possessed of an external illusion of functionality. Disturbing one’s sleep with gagging trickles of locally produced goo. Harrying ones joints with vague discomforts like so many Victorian parlor trick ectoplasms. Tickling one’s throat like a Roman feather to short for its task.

So it’s multi-symptom relieve me please
and over the counter I go.
I don’t want to cough,
I don’t want to sneeze,
but son of the Vicks let me breathe.
I’m popping pills and liqui-gels,
swigging my Alka-Seltzer.
So stop that drip in the back of my throat
before it starts to fester.
The aches and the pains
away should drain
along with the sinus fluid,
but the fog in my brain I cannot say
is it contagion and congestion
or the hallucinatory price one pays
for pharmacological intervention.

.
My words stumble down
The telephone line
Satellites and towers
In badminton stance
Bounce thoughts fallen
From my tired mind
To tumble them out
And into your ear
All for the sake
Of risking the chance
You will catch them
And feel them
A vague fascination
And toss back your own
Of puzzlement or cheer
Crossing the miles
Between darkened locations
Breathing slow and welcome
This whiskey warmth
Your drowsing voice
In this dozing dreamer’s ear
.

The following parable is excerpted from The Book of The Night Jaguar.


And Caleb the Progenitor, naked but for Blood and Spear turned and walked down the temple steps and out into the jungle. He traveled three days and nights unimpeded by any creature. On the dawn of the fourth day he walked into a small village and collapsed at the door of an old woman who was attended by many cats. The old woman gave him food and drink and a simple bed where he slept for two days warmed and watched over by many cats. When Caleb awoke the old woman gave him simple garments to cover his body and old shoes to protect his feet. She returned to him and the Sacred Spear which she had wrapped in cloth and hidden beneath the bed where he slept. Caleb said to the old woman, “You have been too kind to me, grandmother, as you do not know me and yet despite the strangeness of my appearance and the mystery of my origin you opened your heart and gave me aid. I am shamed that I have nothing with which to repay you for your generosity.”

The old woman smiled and shook her grey head. She said to Caleb, “I have always taken care of the strays. I share my roof and my food with them. I tend to their wounds and I bury them when tending is not enough. In exchange they keep the mice from my pantry and trouble from my door. They give me their warmth and their company and their love. My womb gave me no children but look how many I have now. They may not look like me, but nor do I look like them and yet we share a home and a heart. You are merely a stray who looks more like me. Your thanks are more than enough because I know you give them from your heart.”

And Caleb embraced the old woman and said, “I must thank you again, grandmother, for your wisdom is great and you honor me with it. May the Blessing of The Great Cat be ever upon you.” And so Caleb left the village and began the long journey back to the house of his Chief.

-
What passion hides
In arbitrary corners
Shadows veiling its
Flushed and feverish face
Hungry grasp of babe at breast or
Charging conqueror hilt in hand
Devouring mouth in gluttonous rapture
Teasing tongue curious as a cat
Imperative embrace of grappling titans
Huddling survivors
Brothers in arms?