Lodestar Quarterly

Lodestar Quarterly
Figure reaching for a star Issue 1 • Spring 2002 • Poetry

A Mouthful of Queer

horehound stillpoint

we thank the universe          for being

such a fabulous      s p a c e

we thank the excellent intelligence of the cosmos

for coming up with a plan based on chaos

(we'd never be able to weather the storms on this planet

without infinite unpredictability)

we thank the galaxy for spinning in such a way as to coagulate

into brunch:      namely, cinnamon walnut french toast,

     with a heavy cream crust

we thank the original organic soup

for providing us with ears and knees

and all the fun stuff in between

we thank the contents of this empty shot glass

for helping us get through the day

then helping us forget the day we got through

we thank the plants and herbs that burn and smoke

for lifting us up:      god, dammit, lift us up

lift us up and let us down to drift on pillows
so that we can thank our dreams for setting us free

from the logic/grid of cause and effect

for giving us a nightly reminder of what it is to wake up

and realize the unreality of what just happened

and who it happened with

we thank quantum physicists and the swamis of india

for reminding us that nothing really exists

none of us is really here

there is only One {probable wave} and therefore nothing can hurt us
how can water hurt water, fire hurt fire, life hurt life
it's a mystery               how anything can be born
let alone die        let alone die        let alone die

we thank our minds for allowing us to misunderstand

everything so perfectly

we thank our hearts for permitting us to feel

the love and pain intrinsic to being human

we thank evil for its presence

reminding us that hatred is a lack of imagination

a lack of individuation

a disinclination to empathize

hatred is a second-hand shtick that comes and goes ... like light

'darkness is the source ... of mystery and manifestations,'

lao tzu wrote, in transcribing the tao

we translate/update this as 'look for me in the light'

we pray for the light at the end of the tunnel

but darkness is the playing field

darkness is substratum

there is no switch for the dark

think angels are in the light/god is in the light

i think it's time we made friends with the tunnel

the darkness, wet with the possibility of unknowing

of course, it would be queer, to suggest love of the goddamned tunnel

it would be just like a queer to stick his nose into the dark

that other people want to deny altogether

therefore, we thank the queerness which runs straight through

the heart of everything

life would be dead in the water without unreasonable lust

we thank the loves of our lives for coming

back to haunt us and heal us

in ways that are -- i'm sorry -- so magically delicious

i have to thank my funky karma every day

thank you daddy, thank you boy, thank you sister, thank you mother of all

sorrows and orgasms alike called death, yes, we thank death

we thank our ancestors for passing on     the concepts

of ritual and sacrifice

so we remember how to use smoke and mirrors

and spoken words

to make sacred moments out of    t h i n      a      i      r

and thank god who is not separate from us

for hiding so well

Other work by horehound stillpoint can be found in Poetry Slam, Poetry Nation, Tough Guys, Rough Stuff, Out in the Castro, and Of the Flesh. Writing as Greg Nott, his plays have been included in the last two San Francisco Fringe Festivals, his own production in 2000, then as part of the Daytripper's IV series in 2001. He is currently working on a novel.

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