Introducing Dispatches from Heuristic Halo Press, founded in 2018 by Kyaw Zin Myint (“Marshall”) and A. Scott Buch (“Alex”).
Today we are featuring two poems by Marshall and one by Alex. Please feel free to share this Dispatch, or even to contribute your art, your poetry, your thoughts and words, in the future. Send them to [email protected].
M.
Dog-Hare of the Firewater
I see Maung Maung again in Thailand
Not Maung Maung himself but the spirit of Dionysus
A ceremonial den like a cow skull,
The holy mischievous law-breaking that is
As much of Karma, especially in the Abyss
That we must in tantra have
Subtle wind through our bodies
And the blood of a god intoxicates
Us, who see in the fabric of a day
A great pattern of ecstasy like silk lingerie
Who wore out our bodies like clothes
Until there was only mad spirit left,
And there you glared at me—you rascal!—
Until I became old dust,
The distillation of existence
Pounded out of the Milky Way!
A.
Petals of roses red whizzed by a gust
Flat on dried earth spiraled touching gently on the spikes
of branches, no thrust
kissing the primitive floor of nature
Fertile soil mothering thorny stalks beauty on top
Crossing everyone’s sight: delight
Obliged not regardless of whoever the gardener be
Fantasy of a magic garden still in every bees’ instinct, beautifully
‘fore all the delicate parts rest beneath earth.
Water flowing down from the north to the hearts
Of the plains nourishing, growing and multiplying more plants
Blooming not only exotic flowers but bearing heavenly fruits
Regardless, as bees don’t fly around instantly causing flowers to bloom
Who are we to yell at seeds to grow trees
Let alone what those tree might produce
Till, individually, we improve. . .
M.
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