Woman Playing Guitar
like a fruit
in the curve
of the small guitar,
would have been
After Reading An Epic Fantasy
Quite suddenly, full blown,
out of the chubby cheeks of an infant wind,
a leaf landed on a mud-puddle,
like a strange, crude vessel launched
on a fathomless cafe au lait sea.
It tacked eastward for seven ticks of time
then lost its course in a birthday candle blow.
Later, by the sun-shrunken mud-puddle
that had beached the curled brown leaf,
an ant swam a minuscule cove.
But it was a gigantic monster,
and I saw the horrific peril of yet another episode
in the epic from which I'd been excluded,
too huge to be viewed
even as a comprehensible god.