The left hand tells us
'bow down to the moon god;
bow to the moon god
bow to the moon god'

left hand tells us
'bow to the moon god
and spread him out with a sword'.
-Source unknown

Our story begins with the
long-stemmed iris,
bright blue but blighted with the
i s o l a t e
virus (we call it Spot)
it comes when we tell it.
And never goes


nonconductive spreads nowhere
but the garden of eyes
(which is, after all, where I lost your
to begin with).

I am certain it was blue.

Here on the island
the virus grows like the moon goes--
glows, really, glows like
paper lanterns glow--
heart shaped;
moon or virus I do not know.

They swing in odd
about the polar point of fingers

(the left hand always points fingers)

crooked to come on,
come on, come on--

But there is no one to come.

n o o o n e

who knows, so. . .

so where did your spotted iris go?

There is no island after all,
no natives prance in
song clicking the
of drums s s s
stick to the truth,

guns are so passe.

Our story begins
with the long-stemmed iris
bought from the moon-god
and full of his virus and
with my right hand
I swear I will bring you flowers

if the moon does not
cut it away.

AKL 2007