Once upon a time I was buried but I’m beyond that now

I caught my wife in the kitchen. She wasn’t doing the dishes. Instead she was making a baby planet in the sink. Crushed china, angel fetus, antifreeze, and dead god dandruff, molded into a ball lovingly with her twin hands. I got it. I know the enlightenment of darkness. I have always been a lotus flower in denial.

Once upon a time I must have been nothing, then . . . flowers

As she hurled it into the new universe out of the kitchen window, her feet were black from fire and her hair was everywhere. In the corner of her eye she caught me noticing. Embarrassed she screamed, “It’s only fucking inspiration! The rest is aftermath.” The planet wasn’t that gone. But something new came into the kitchen. It just blendered everything.

Once upon a time I must have been nothing, then . . . flowers

My wife and I stood together in the rubble. If everything is to be found inside one, then why doesn’t everyone head their own religion, and just talk about it? The number one or the symbol for infinity will reflect in one mirror or infinite mirrors. Stupid.

She swallows the third eye that had been mine

“The best thing you can do right now is just stand and be pure stillness so I can hurl this world back at you,” came a voice from the sky.

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 Art and Text by Jack Walsh (with some help on the text by Paula Cisewski)

……Jack Walsh is an artist living in Minneapolis. He is married to the poet Paula Cisewski…….