Bismillah ir-Rahman ir-Rahim, In Chondra,
the Everyone Magazine of Purgatory

it's never too late to die, no one
was there they don't get it do they
the sun created after the shadow
the moon before the sun
Jupiter before the parts became
whole predicates on timelines
the world stops by at the bottom
one moving by in lindens
who is moving who is not
would you have stopped her
now you are mad that it matters
the squeaks permanently rigored
fixed to anchors dropping
everything blooms from exactly
one instant, the sound
of a last heartbeat last sorrow
cannot call you from her Milan
because she went in without notice.

If you could see what has been seen by those of you who have died, you would be puzzled and troubled. Then you would have listened and obeyed; but what they have seen is yet curtained off from you. Shortly, the curtain would be thrown off. You have been shown, provided you see and you have been made to listen provided you listen, and you have been guided if you accept guidance. I spoke unto you with truth. You have been called aloud by (instructive) examples and warned through items full of warnings. After the heavenly angels, only man can convey message from Allah. -Ali Ibn Abi Taleb, Chief of all believers.


Please, come sit here a while
refresh yourself by the banks of death
it will comfort you to know
about time and mankind
the big and small problems,
your typewriter is stuck man
on the word definition
of last supper not ghadr khum
stuck on infinity with no where
to go no eulogy can lull
old men to sleep better
than hajar o hadeeda, Qul:
last mysteries are here to haunt you,
to beg you out of your sleep.
My old man used to rip pages
from the Bible for Vietnam
liquored up torn outrageous
greetings to the graves
we send greetings to the graves
as we wait to go in to them
from Gaza to the Corinthians
the smiths go in the sowandis
go in the travoltas go in the savages
go in the wage earners go in Buddha
and the Buddha idea go in
the unable go in the upright go
in the flowers go in the elephants
go in the presidents go in
their babies go in don't you know
the mistakes go in the memories
go in the warnings go in
the echos go in and in
and in the breaths go in
the bernsteins go in the
dirt and prayers go in
the dirty pages go in the
fingerprints go in the typewriter
goes in the ashes go in the planets
and stars go in the bees go in.
Nevermind. You'll go in too.