From Moksha Smith: Agni's Warrior-Sage
by Antonio de Nicolas
The full moon marked the paths
of gravel and grass
in the cemetery
as I came upon this mysterious light,
it sat with green light
on the high edge of a tombstone
shaped like the shadow
of a Bonsai tree,
it throbbed softly in the breeze
like the throat of a frog,
it had a low voice,
it croaked:
" I am the last thought
of a critical theorist
who died young enough
to know he was all wrong.
But,I, his thought, was so right
I could not die
with the last spasm of his heart.
I need to be dissolved!"
"And how may I help?"
" Read me a poem,
then swat me like a fly!"
I did as asked,
the light dissolved
without a stain of gut.
The moon lay over the vacant spot,
the dead were at last dead
with no memory left.
Pity, he was the only celebrity
this town ever had!
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