proverbs for cobra
they say elephant knows elephant
and horse knows horse. but when living is done,
death is here. it's a long way out and a short journey in,
drowning while you clutch at the foam;
your wife first,
then god.
and as you beat a dog,
you look at its owner; arriving late to gnaw only on the bones.
one neck
two nooses
one mouth
two stomachs
one woman
two men.
a magpie, starved, eats the banyan;
a phoenix, starved, eats chicken shit.
i hold a knife by its blade.
the wind blows,
god's broom.
we're carrying wood for the fire,
back to its forest,
better sated,
dead,
than alive and hungry.
better sated,
dead,
all our sins
still whole.
with his friends, a man crosses the sea; a woman fords the stream alone,
worried by the crooks of her knees, the bow of each pubic hair.
yes yes, i know your wife:
cross-eyed
and selling rice
at the temple gate.
yes yes, i know you:
you're the poppy eater with bruised lips, fickle as the palm of your hand;
green face, yellow fangs.
petal face, powdered skin.
fish eats the ants, ants eat the fish.
owl face, eel skin.
ugly as a ghost
yet good enough for her to fuck him,
he danced badly, cried that the ground was uneven
and the cunning eat men while the stupid are eaten.
god made elephant, god made grass.
swinging a stick in an empty garden,
dead with all your sins intact
(ate the whole dog
even the fur;
drawing a snake
and adding legs,
growing hair inside your stomach,
like salt
thrown into the ocean