Wind from Nowhere
The wind came up from somewhere deep in the
An old man praying to a small fire raised one eyebrow
as it highballed down the mountainside,
crushing a path through the trees.
Hitting the desert on its belly,
it got up and took off
in all directions
On the freeway it ran with overhead wires
and shot past cars,
heading for the yellow haze
on the horizon.
With the sound of a freight train gathering speed
it entered the city,
and it burst through doorways and hurtled through houses
without disturbing so much as a pair of reading glasses
resting on newspapers.
Blowing open back doors, it departed
and continued through streets.
Men clung to flagpoles and were blown sideways like flags.
Tricycles, garbage cans , car doors,
schools of pirranhas bounded away.
Trees pounded like pistons.
A man trying to light a cigarette under a bridge
threw up his hands in despair.
Airports and bus terminals closed down,
while bars and churches filled up.
From whence this wind came and where it was going
Or just a broken-field run
through the burning of our dreams.
And on the side of a telephone pole
a butterfly dug in against a hurricane.
The shimmering of its black and orange wings
seemed like a few words from the Vedanta
which through hundreds of years
had defied translation.
Poem taken from the chap book Strange Attractors. First edition July 1993. 200 issues. Co-producer: Mark Stueve of Old Erie Street Bookstore Cleveland, Ohio. Front cover art by Harland Ristau. Lettering by Big Web. Back cover art by Dan Nielsen. Text artwork by t.l. & Carolyn Kryss & Hilary Krzywkowsk. Co-edited by Mark Weber & Mark Stueve. Photo of t.l.kryss by mark weber 18may89. (c)1993 by Zerx Press & t.l. kryss, 5016 Inspiration Dr, SE, Albuquerque, New Mexico 87108