Khepri

    by T.M. Camp


I never thought that I would live too long
long to live
measuring out the days, grain by grain
through a sieve (or is it sieve?)
Either way, I believe in more than gods
more than the gifts they offer
the sacrifices they demand of the low
scuttling like beetles before them
scraping and bowing
No, I beleve in more than gods now.

I never thought that I would live so long
live so long
rolling up the crumbs of each day
crushing them, compact and round
shoving them backward along the barren ground
rolling backward, moving forward
because that is my way
(It’s always been my way)
and I mean to have my say
I would speak my peace
chew it up and spit it back
into the eye of the East
into the gaze that burns and flames to subtle ash
all of my turns and games.

I never thought,
I never thought that I would live this long
live this long
my face in the sand and my feet caked with dung
rolling a ball of shit, fragrant and wide,
rolling it backward
over the face of the father who had died
my murdered sun
I too would have wept and prayed
forgotten all my gripes, set aside the eggs unlaid
the eternal bother, the missed meals,
the days wasted and worn
No, I too would have wept next to my mother
I would have wept
but for the shit clinging to my heels
wept over what the snakegod had done
to my god and my father.



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© 2003 by T.M. Camp