Iggy had thrown a third leaf    thriving

the Hermit had dismounted the bench and walked his dog with a slack leash between them                                                                                                                                           

hed return this evening   as he had prior evenings                                                                           

to take to his soapbox and riff on mysteries as he saw and understood them to be

                                                                                          the police would try to roust him  

as always

                but those gathered to listen were fervent and rousted the police and they  

they sustained the Hermit

they informed the police they were xercising their rights    their advise and consent

                                                one has to remember  nowadays  citizens carried arms too

law had provided interpretations that they could     and if they deemed it necessary 

they could use them  employ force against the police

                                                                                                Untried and Begging   

begging to be tried by eithers hand

he heard in the long distant a whiff of  To Protect and Serve

                                                                                                            Who

and the Citys Fathers  over the crackle of cruiser radios  wisely backed the police off

frankly it was too dark

                                      suspects were too difficult to ID in the folds of shadows and   

the blinding flares and staccato of passing headlights through their fixed cameras 

videotaping from the cruisers dashes

as yet                                                                                                                                               

cooler minds had prevailed

                                                                                                   he sat very still              

pondering

a cigar stuck to his lip

its aroma and heat at his nose

the afternoons sun was bright      and lucid

                                                                                                         his mind turned darkly

mired in the ruse and colouring of his thoughts      in the smoke and oblique mirrors    

of memories sweeping his consciousness

                                                                   there at once  maudlin  circumspect  eviscerating   

racing

more sides than he could count   facets   like gemstones he would never be able to afford 

or even want if he could

                                       like carnivale glass and mirrors

the seers begging

begging to turn their tarot cards

ply their polished white crystal balls

Omniscient

                                                                 he declined    he had balls of his own

and organically trusted them

he wondered 

and struggled how some people took commands  invoked the tongue of a burning bush 

or the rapture of oracles entrails tea leaves and scattered bones

                                                                                                             Mordant colours

marbling light

forming pinions

they piqued him

they pleasured  queried  and entertained him

hardly  was he ever thoughtless or restless

he was riddled by imaginings

                                                                      Iggy   the Hermit   the lolling-tongued dog

he listened to the Space surrounding him                                                                                       

listened raptly
panning  and sifting  through the fools gold for Its pure nuggets
he could have easily have been at home in the Klondike or the Gold Fields of California    
as ruthless as the next miner
though not inhabited by what seemed their shallow greed
their dull yellow fires                                                                    

                            his was the shearing blue flames of crematoriums that crumbled bone

split elements into a talcum of ash

effecting singularity

all imperfections burnt away

                                                 Ore made sublime

                                                                                         and else

the whispers from headwaters  clear and sleek  suffering the turn of iceblue glacial torrents

                                                               then    the cigar smoke smarted his eyes                       

objecting

it interfered  and interrupted

the dusks plum infused him

                                                                                                              

evening had set
 

the Light had escaped

it was of no matter

                                                                                                                                

                               Intrigue neednt either

1503,  Thursday,  3  7. 14

Origin

the smatterings revealed on the tan vertical valences of the vinyl blinds inside the house   

were cast by the sun as shadows

                                     Rorschachs  never to be made heads or tails of

to be stared upon 

                    numb  mindlessly

a feral cat had sprayed the outer screen door a phantom working its pheromone          

making its eloquent statement of Maleness  and Space

sudden Evidence

                    It Was 

                            like blue cigar smoke churned in the wind a lithe spider web drifting on transparent tides

piquing consciousness

                      making wonder where the scent may possibly have 

originated

as if anything needed Origin                                                                                                          

It Was

         that should be enough

1813,  Twosday,  1  7. 14

he opened a box of Strike Anywhere Matches

they were all burned

their heads blackened

a few millimeters of their squared shafts scorched 
                                                     the inside of the cardboard box was like toast     

brittle

it didnt xhale when he opened it

inspecting the keen edges of the cellophane that wrapped it they were dull   oxidized

weary from the inside
                        weary from the inside

very weary . . . inside

he put the box down    

the unlit cigar  

he heard a . . . crinkling

his shadow stood up from where he sat

                                                                                              . . . and left

for the first time in his life he was afraid that if he were struck hed have no phosphorus to explode

1805,  Twosday,  1  7. 14

orange

orange

she held a unadorned ceramic bowl in her hands before her breasts and begged 

from door to door

without success 

there was no compassion or pity afforded

they inside saw nothing in giving the old woman a thing

she tried to managed her shoulders  be upright  then uttered a breathless thank you   

turned  and walked away wearily to the next door where she was treated as shabbily

she walked one side of the street

crossed over

and returned on the other side

she halted then at the crossstreet where she had appeared  and had begun begging

a little boy watched her from the front window of his house and wondered why 
his mother said No and asked the old woman to please leave

She looks hungry mommy

Shell have to find her own way dear  We have what we have because we do not give it away

We didnt ask for ours either

he got down off the back of the sofa  went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator 

looking in holding its door open its cold blue air washing over his face and chest

chilling the skin at the inside of his elbow of his extended arm

But look mommy we have lots and lots of food  She really looks hungry

Close the refrigerator  The food we have is for ourselves  We feed ourselves first  and foremost Youll learn that as you grow up

Maybe I dont want to grow up if I cant feed someone who is hungry

he scrambled back to the sofa and climbed its camelback  he often imagined it elephants and horses and buffaloes  riding beside the Plains Indians who painted his face and made him one of theirs  or turning into an animal himself  talking with every other animal he happened upon  because people  people  for whatever their reasons  never talked 
like that together  never came together happily and played in the tall green and brown grass where butterflies fluttered like popcorn and then lazed on bobbing colored flowers or bending grass stalks  or as squirrels racing through the leafy trees and hurtling through the air into anothers crown  ants scurrying  always so serious and busy  snakes twining on each other excitedly  or playing in the blue sparkling sea silver creeks or white fast rivers

he looked through the window through his reflection for the old woman

his mommy call her a beggar 

   

what kind of name was that

 

she stood at the end of his street   still holding her bowl   though it seemed much bigger

  

and bigger

and then her face was directly in front of his

though he knew she was still standing at the street corner

her eyes  deep and purple

her brow furrowed

furrowed like the ground he saw at the farms outside the city

he tilted his head  curious

he thought that she might say something to him

if he was an animal he would have said he was sorry

she spoke

I am sorry that you are so young and this is so terrible  I think you should close your eyes   

It will hurt for just a little bit

the orange bowl was so much bigger now  the sun reflecting in it painted her face with its rays

Ah you look like an Indian

Then be like an Indian too  Close your eyes now

he did

it didnt hurt or burn too much like she said

the black ash that was his head burst like a dandelion someone made a wish upon

                                                                                            everything on the street did

1712,  Twosday,  1  7. 14