Xenotaph's Letter To Epistolary

Xenotaph’s Letter To Epistolary

Stop trying to sever “pomp”

from “psychopomp”, Little Legba–

Cut your tongue loose

and flood your mouth with nightengales

make peace with your angles:

It’s not about what silverback skriker you dangle from,

nor the sweet, chubby sexpot who swallows your ransom

It’s all over your face, Young Scratch:

this whole astringent boondogle,

the great blooming disasterpiece

you’re so proud to be wrapped up in,

tighter than Ko.

every scrambling desperate nonchalance

hollers “I need, I want, I need, I need, I want”,

rippling with savage indulgence

until shame rips your choler:

the more you throw it away

the tighter it clings

each glib indifference

only more baldly betrays

your naked, lonely desperation

if words are the best bridge you have

you’ll never make the cross–

don’t make it about words.

Morris Stegosaurs is the author of the collection “Zebra Feathers“, on Minor Arcana Press.