A Surreal Poem: Quintessence

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Quintessence

Uncaged birds, their voices

ringing in tinntanubulation

across meadows; across meadows.

&

Endowed with syrupy honey;

allowed temporary myopia

for viscera, for deep-seated

inward feelings. Whisper something

to wake from our caves,

to wake from our stupor.

&

Money builds brick walls.

We’re trapped and stiff;

stiffening into rocks

and dreaming and dreaming

no, hoping

that we’ll be thriving, yes

thriving

as fleshy, sticky,

sweet, and tropical

— like papaya —

we all want high water content

in our bones.

Please, help me find

ancient fruit in Mesoamerica.

That fresh and beautiful, and living

and pure fruit.

&

Fish knife fillets