A vision quest vision. Livia Stein, illustrator
What happens as I watch a spider’s web
over a small stream: after many hours,
a wave of bugs on an advancing wind
washes over the spot. “It’s the spider’s
fortune,” I think watching several wing pairs
stick and tangle. Only then do I hear
the approaching rustle behind the swarm.
It’s a woman in hiking boots, long hair,
and a bikini, swinging, like Occam’s
Razor, a broad stick to de-web her way.
“Hi.” She could be Goddess in human form.
“Ya’ll having a party over at Bonne’s?”
“It’s a retreat.” Her hips shift and she seems
to give, by repetition, a koan:
“Ya’ll having a party?” I don’t know. Her
weedy pubes spin out thick and uncontained.
When she blazes on, the spider web’s gone.
over a small stream: after many hours,
a wave of bugs on an advancing wind
washes over the spot. “It’s the spider’s
fortune,” I think watching several wing pairs
stick and tangle. Only then do I hear
the approaching rustle behind the swarm.
It’s a woman in hiking boots, long hair,
and a bikini, swinging, like Occam’s
Razor, a broad stick to de-web her way.
“Hi.” She could be Goddess in human form.
“Ya’ll having a party over at Bonne’s?”
“It’s a retreat.” Her hips shift and she seems
to give, by repetition, a koan:
“Ya’ll having a party?” I don’t know. Her
weedy pubes spin out thick and uncontained.
When she blazes on, the spider web’s gone.
Visit Livia Stein's website to see more of her work. |
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