INDECENCY

 

          
                                                          There's nothing more absurd  
       than the idea of Death, for always we’re ‘breathing our last’;
       It’s always ‘the end of the world as we know it’, whether
       We know it or not, and it was at the world’s edge where i,
       Faith Chattergoon, was continuing to fool myself
       That i was dependent on nothing and no-one,
                                                                             like a lamp
       That blindly believes it’s its own source of light, forgetting
       That much must be burnt up towards the spreading of its rays
       And that many hands maintain its mantle and trim its wick.

                                                ^

       I could sense that i was a link in an infinite chain
       Of energy flowing through me and all other people,
       But, in order to move through and beyond their obsessions,
       I had had to behave as though mine were independent
       Of theirs and not watered by the one invisible spring
       Flowing down from the mountain of faith in Life, translating
       Itself into the ripples of streams lakes rivers falls and seas
       Of neverendingly dreaming breath on Earth

                                                ^

       Now pretend i’m jean-luc godot or bela tarr and say  
       Love and God are ‘only’ humankind’s greatest creations,
       Why do we keep ‘believing in’ Love, despite its record
       Of instability and crimes committed in its name,
       But doubt the validity of its redoubtable twin?

        (from “fatima solagua arterra’s nudes” by Brian Chan)