Pandora
This shit’s so big
you know god’s involved
so
bust out the bourbon
and the old myths
for this translation
Days where the day book’s irrelevance
dances on the faces of retired clocks
Quaint things like faces discarded
replaced by masks
and fear
put here,
with no clear path ahead
like wind-up toys with Alzheimers
What did we used to talk about?
I’m thinking of Pandora and that box.
There she was
magicked by Zeus to marry his enemy
made beautiful, of course
but more to his point
this perfect girl
was the most curious woman on earth
And Zeus said
“I’ve made you a fabulous box
For your wedding.
Congrats
and
Don’t ever open it.”
Well
Crouched behind lightning bolts
and a god’s will
inside that old box
the writing was on the wall
The walls we used to walk past
without masks
or held breath
And she said “Thanks, dude.”
And later, alone
she paced before it
itching, burning
made that way
The contents calling to her
“Come…
come fuck things up…”
And when she held her breath
and lifted off the easy lid
out poured plagues
diseases, war
you know —
all of bent heaven’s best human curses
And here we are
masked crusaders circling the mystery
cape-less
inside held breath
And it was said
that at the very bottom
of that mythic box
bent from the heavy weight
of that enormous pile of god shit
tiny and quiet
lay the grace
of hope.
Hope.
Who can imagine?
As thousands die and
millions suffer
from plague
from poverty
from hatred
grieving our dead, fearing our future
while everything’s burning down
As racists murder black folks
and AK’s fill the capitols
of a failed and failing
fucked-up nation
Truth reduced to babel
the towering words of lies
& the election
teetering
Roe dissolving
like heaps of good
environmental protections
Fascist white judges planted
for a lifetime
All human safety
cringing behind stinking dumpsters
RBG dying
with the economy
All disasters have left the box
yet,
Hope isn’t alone.
Her three daughters —
Anger, Action, and Courage
flank her
in sequins of power
like lionesses
Goddess power
roaring illuminated
through the empty streets
through the busy screens
through the chaos
of Now —
Anger. Courage.
Action.
—the first and final gifts
Breathe them
down to your Now-planted feet
swallow them, joining
the power
inside you.
back to list