musée mia burrus

Small World Tales

The Hadza: a waltz
The Suit: a square dance
 
 
I am just a moment, not momentous, here for now
on earth and in time.
I have an easy rhythm with the good for nothing soil,
the thorny brush, the biting flies, the sinking water holes.
I have other things I take round wrapped in a blanket
carried on my back, a bow and arrows, knife
and pipe, some good smoke I swapped
for honey, running from a dripping hive I smoked
of heavy bees.  (It stings my eyes, the smoke, the honey
rings my wrist like a golden stream of sun.)
I have a wife as well, for now, and she has some things, some pots
in which she boils the sap that drips from the desert rose,
drips like the chilly silver of the moon, distilling thorn
and poisoning the tips of our arrowheads.
I have some luck in hunting too, for now, and with my arrows
tipped in deadly drops can down all but the largest prey
and then there’s meat for all.
Hunger and the sun and moon mark the day,
deepen and lift the darkness, sharpen and dull the scent,
blur and focus the sound, prickle and silken the skin.
But none of it is mine, not the silence, not the dark, not the day.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Just a moment.  Who the hell are you?
You who have no crops or livestock
wealth or leaders,
epidemics, social classes.
Free from bosses, bills,
taxes, money, schedules,
you are ill-defined,
a faded star
without a constellation
of cheap or peak oil,
blood diamonds,
large scale war,
détente, diplomacy,
an all consuming afterlife.
 
My god, how do you live
without cathedrals,
inquisitions, gilt
reliquaries holding bits of bone,
confessions, guilt,
the wrath of someone else’s god?
 
I am…
just a moment…
I have a
drive to satisfy
a hunger rarely felt.
I broker
structured fractioned
M&As
carbon transfers
credit default swaps
tweet with hashtags
blog and like
I’m Baby Einstein baby
I’m personally trained
my life is coached,
politically correct
I text
all of my thoughts
I celebrate
with gifts and drinks
I fundraise for
and drink some more to
National Whoever Day and
Anything Awareness Month
muffled buffered
gotta run
I spin I doctor
wheel and deal
walk and dodge
a virtual reality
of best and routine practices
couple up and drift apart
partner trade and swap the top
scoot the reaper
run from life
now keep busy
all go round
 
who has the time?
 
 
Mia 2016