honey and sting

1.

Sooner or later, Vesuvius blows,
and we are left, seared with shock.
Either because we never thought
the ash would find us
in the middle of our pretty rooms
with painted walls,
with only enough time,
maybe, to reach and hold
one other person as we each
go down,

Or because we were the ones who got away,
an accidental sailing trip
or long before,
because that old mountain
never felt quite right, anyway,
and we left home, with arguments and pain,
and now are looking,
from very far away and through
grief thicker than the lingering smoke
at all we left behind.

2.

Sooner or later, Vesuvius blows
and you watch the shadow of its smoke
on a television screen,
while coffee percolates
and the bath water runs
and you only have time for a bite of toast
and it's time to go about your day.

At night, you send money on a website.
A few of your favorite artists sing songs that
wrench your heart (the miking, on the other hand,
isn't up to par, leaving you mildly disconcerted
in your charity and shame).

Disconcerted. Ha ha.



3.

Sooner or later, Vesuvius blows.
Poison dust falls out of the mail. Something
unwinds inside the tinest part
of who you are. A virus, a sentience, a gene.

Sooner or later, your heart stops beating.
And all the rhythm of the world is lost.
And the music never was.

When I lost my heart
I thought
I would never walk again
into the world.

Pain sears us but it's never enough.
There is only so much we can learn, to prepare,
like holding your breath under water for as long
as you can. A child's trick; a child's hope,
to see what it's like. To survive the moment
of annihilation.

Sometimes I want to die, if only
to resolve this ambivalence, not knowing,
and feeling things both ways –
with faith, and with despair.

I say these words, knowing
they'll trigger some alarm.
But it is only the voices speaking.
Meanwhile,
the child descends once more
with reckless hope
and flagrant abandon.

The pool is all embrace.
This is life, the watcher says.
The child exhales and counts the bubbles
as they rise.