Vomitory

(Poetry Scales 50)     

Come with me, let’s find an opening in this crowd
Escape the crush, retreat from the din
The noise, the relentless sound

The man of masses is a strange and scary beast
He binges on swarms and purges thought
Conformity is his feast

On my doorstep this morning there sat a magpie
Flightingly it led me down the street
Off the avenue, down a narrow alleyway
I lost it briefly as it entered a courtyard
On finding it again it was lying, dead
In a crowd of petrified anguish
I marveled at the dusty, drab pile of feathers
Where once beautiful iridescence flew

Somewhere between
One for sorrow
And whatever constitutes a murder
Lies the number where unity doesn’t become uniformity

From the small little village
Burning the witches
To the sprawled megacity
Embracing indifference
That poison pervades
Craving rumor and safety
We need an effective emetic
So let’s see if we avoid a stampede
But still find our way out the exit


photo by Ashlyn Dietz