WHEN I SAW GOD

In an old album of a little boy who died long ago
The image of myself I saw in circus mirrors,
An abandoned drum left at the bottom
Of a rainbow and the holy Knights’ bones

That have fallen from the Castle of the Last Souls,
The butterfly, her wings that blink and alight
In the back of my head and, on occasion,
Have made me look quite ridiculous.

There is one page that has been torn out
And it is the smile of my soul
With an ashtray below her feature,
Exclaiming the famous songs of my genius.

Like remembrances of what is coming.
The boomerang is a faithful dog.
Those who see it coming like a half-
written page over the hope of the woods,

Will hit the floor. Sadly. With a religious beauty.
Begging for a little more from their negligible lives.