Wild Ode of the Life Cycle

“Is not possible to eat me without insisting that I sing praises of my devourer?”
-Fyodor Dostoevsky

Wild Ode of the Life Cycle
recited in the key of wild rice to the rhythm of morning doves, tempo steady, unending

Please let the ravens pluck my eyes from their sockets
And the worms to burrow my heart
Return me

Place me in the dirt
All those years of being grocery store bottle fed
Two dollars more for the organic sticker
that apple’s still Babylon’s whore
Don’t waste it with embalming

Oh the coffin
Invented to keep one’s corpse safe from grave robbers
Hawking your body to the anatomist
Chewed not dissected, thank you very much

Ethic or morality, hmmm
It’s the hunter who feeds off God’s gardens
Clear cut and to the point, slash and burn maybe I’ll earn enough credits
To eat from the field of the kings peasants
Money well spent, yoke of the dominus
Don’t eat the carrots when they hang from a stick

Will the animal rights activist picket
As the maggots do their job
Please don’t stop them
I need to be shat out, to feed the weeds
Deer feed, my living wish

Wild lands or wilderness
Sounds kind of wild-ish
I suppose

When Jesus multiplied the fish
Oh what ahisma
To feed the multitude God’s choice food
Before the business of healing the sick

Oh great Ayahuasqueros of aged time
And all the world’s Shamans of differing splendor
To see the game and stalk it
And after wards to sing a song and not talk it

My bow, my arrow
My salvation’s saving grace
To compensate with the pain and sorrow
Dollar bills are so hollow

My wife her basket
Child, a labor, home a mess,
the nettles brewing in the kitchen
Wild crafted by those hands
the wild goose in the oven
smells like some good loven’

Food
I give
Food
I take
Thanks be for the connection

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2 Responses to Wild Ode of the Life Cycle

  1. Tricia says:

    Shark-feed
    My living wish

  2. shannon says:

    my limbs bend
    heavy with succulent fruit
    only to drop
    and rot
    in peace

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