{sunlight on the kitchen floor, tiptoe}
I am in love with Olena Kalytiak Davis's first book of poetry, And her soul out of nothing. She has another but I haven't read it yet. I especially like a poem called 'It was a coffin that sang' because it likens God to a gypsy:
"...And what a Gypsy
God was, stamping his boots
and tying his scarves
across one eye, like a lunatic crazed
by what he had set going:
each wild drunk
dancer, the heel-to-toe
of each reckless life...."
God was, stamping his boots
and tying his scarves
across one eye, like a lunatic crazed
by what he had set going:
each wild drunk
dancer, the heel-to-toe
of each reckless life...."
It makes me think of Emir Kusturica films, their chaos, everything so fierce & bleak. & how everytime I watch a film it destroys me, I get angry at him for making me cry, yet I keep wanting to see more of them because of the illumination, the truth that everything is all the same. & you can glean these moments of such calm in all the absurdity & something so joyous even in the despondency, grace stuck in there like that little sugar cubes that are shoved into the mouths of the bride & groom so that they might at least start their new life with a little sweetness, because who knows when the world will end --
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