Poem

A Tale of Mercy
I told you she is I, though I myself call on her. So,
she isn't precisely an angel or goddess, am I? I have put
myself in the position of being an easy touch. Nothing else. I'dtouch anyone to give them relief. If I can. But my definition
is that I can. Who defined me? My culture, a culture of mercy,
a living codex. I am a unique culture of one, from everywhere.
I amher map and her self. I am everyone in the story; I
am the story. They say you can only see in space. It's possible
she is space. Or one is? Is there space? I'm the arms of it.
An angel hasloose hands and feet—a definition—loose
extensions for healing, feeling, grasping. I saw the angel
in purple and blue. An intensification of grey. It doesn't
have to be one thing. Can my lineage orpresence be explained?
Oh, around the 6th century the concept of Tara was elaborated
in the north of India, from where it passed to Java and Tibet. I'm
older than that—Poetry touches you withsounds on the back
of your neck. I touch myself and lose my social presentation of
clothes and hair, becoming crystalline, plasmatic, soul of the
crescent harp. She healed her own father,remember?
       Leroy the king sat in the dry wash crying
a nearby serpent will bite him. Call on white Tara
for snakebites; this is real, oh real. Was he trying unconsciously to
die? He won't die.Can you keep one of your hands on the wound till
the ambulance comes? He's lying by the athel trees near the river;
he was crying and careless; a stranger found him; he won't die.

Un cuento demisericordia.
Te dije que soy yo, aunque me llamo en ella. Por lo tanto,
ella no es precisamente un ángel o una diosa no?. Me he puesto
a mí mismo en la posición de ser un toque fácil. Solo eso.No he
tocado a nadie para darles alivo. Si puedo, mi definición
es que puedo. Que me define? Mi cultura, una cultura de la misericordia,
un códice de vida. Yo soy cultura única, de todas...