Goddess of Animal Crackers
 
A passion which refused to ache,
I found her shadow,
with all of its colors,
beneath my pillow.
 
A kiss made of memory,
a breath five decades long,
a distant stain upon the stars.

She is slowly becoming translucent.
Soon, she will be transparent.
This is no accident.
Eventually, we all disappear. 

 
Please see her as
she truly is:
full of light
and illusion, like
an uncut diamond.
 
Her magical self
carries the knowledge
that death is not an injury.
  
She is the pause, the gasp,
the moment of wonder
between one incarnation
and the next.


 
The Wounded Beast Inside of Him

The dawn is devoured
by blind dogs.
Opium-smoking dwarves
who rule the world
consult ouija boards
to determine the planet’s destiny.
  
He slumps across a couch
and lusts for something
he dares not imagine.
 
This is a kidnapping
of the soul:  a seizure,
more rape than rapture,
a mask poorly worn,
yet still a mystical experience.
  
All he knows is
all that he can remember.
A constant quiet quest
since birth to be
constantly swimming, immersed
in liquid, forever and always
wet.


© David Kowalczyk 


His work has previously appeared in a variety of
venues, including The Buffalo News, Make Room for
Dada, California Quarterly, Pinchpenny
, and others.