Winter 2005



Andy Clausen

the big long necked camels spitting
by the septic river
Brown as dirt, the kids in rags
painted by the road
Busting smiles
that cleave stone hearts
The hand reaches for rupees
& shoulder shrugging enlightenment

In the sacred doorway the mother
instructs her kids in begging arts
It is a tough job, a kid must be weak
& needy looking, yet have stamina
concentrated dedication
The strongest incense in the world
can't suppress or deodorize
The goats, donkeys, monkeys
and holy cows and sweat
& hot sauce
The rickshaw wallahs spitting
bright red dope juice

The police directing chaos
horses, bikes, motor bikes
clumsy ancient rattling trucks
anything that moves
No one pays attention
pigs in the oily mud
Across the street, a girl, late teens,
beautiful as anything in a museum
beautiful as a child's gathering
prettier than a bridal bouqet
sweet as the memory of magic
sweeter than a celebrated sunset
sexy as a tilled garden
A garden of musical jewels
A serape of sparkling birds
A sere slattern man hawks depe
for his bad tobacco oyster
on the everything sidewalk

Andy Clausen

Rituals won't save you
Tyrants would have no sway
If we weren't like hen's picking
at a sister's blood
Being jealous of ourselves
is no help
Fearing our loving is unworthy
is killing us
A mirror to a statue will not
make it live
Rank obedience will not
bring happiness
Worship of a dead saviour
won't make us whole
Only One Great Big
Only One Great Big
Only One Great Big Union
can save us
O to convince you!



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