6. the death of a tchotchke
the tchotchke lay dying
in the palm of my hand
while the juggalo’s kids did clean up
what i could not understand
and all the tchotchke’s attendant spirits singing
they’re not ready for this change
no they just were not built for this change
i once banked on a longing
my rib salted so proud
but what the tchotchke’s death proved
i’d rather not say aloud
i’m gonna take my rib to Al-Anon
i’m gonna make a milkman of my plight
and pray the tchotchke finds a fulfilling job
on the other side
the tchotchke looked so peaceful
bleeding out and wide-eyed
while band played a creedence song
i made a wreath of tiny flowers
and i closed their tiny eyes
and i somehow found the strength
to sing along
the tchotchke left their breakfast
untouched by their bed
and it was 40 days and nights later
i finally laid those eggs to rest
and the juggalo’s wife did warn me
not to make a god of my loss
but don’t being strong sure come at
such a cost
as the tchotchke lay bleeding out
i was surprised by my need
as 21 juggalos played taps on their phones
and where the tchotchke’s pain it started
and mine ended i could not tell
so symmetrical it was
to my own
it was the smallness of the need
that really chewed me
and how symmetrical it was to my fear
of being seen
and my roommates threw a party
while the tchotchke was refusing food and
i constructed a tiny pyre in the bathroom
but i think it was really for me
i took out my rib
and tried to do a spell with it
but my magic was too small
and it turned back to clay
being sad is not enough
when the clay of mind did sound in it and
the clay of my other side
helpless
as the day i was born
well i always feared the changing spirit
but i never knew just how
and i sure wanna talk about it now
god i wish it were a simple thing
to be chewed up like the how smallness did it
and being sad is good for a lot of things
but this is just not one
the literature on unknowing
i knew it so well but
but where the tchotchke’s smallness started
and mine ended i could not tell
and out of all those AP classes
all i can recall is my baggage
in the darkening light
i felt for a need and
as a student of unknowing
i should have been prepared for
the look of the tchotchke
glass-eyed
i was once proven
in the glass of the unknown
while the giving sound of the tchotchke
was so symmetrical to my taking
the clay of mind did sound in it and
the clay of my other side too
the death of a tchotchke
it took me down
my new friend the hangman
he said unto me
you're gonna need a second ocean
and i in my bedclothes
i found in the linens a porridge waiting
and my rib was dreaming of
a containing presence to aid emotional processing
my friends from the prison
they ask unto me
how good how good
do birds taste?
no, being sad is just not enough