Puno

Nov 06, 2023

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I embrace Puno with my eyes,
  he has two faces and a smile that moves in both directions.

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My stomach is turned rotten,
   Puno, there is no power in this house after the storm.

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I fill my body with tea,
   and Greek philosophy.

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I’ve killed hundreds of ants with my index finger,
   as they pour from a crack behind the tap.
    
They are so stupid.

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You say
    -    Maybe we are like these ants to God and he could look down on us and  decide to do the same.

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I say
    -    I feel I am surely an ant
with less legs and more time.

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I pray God will make my death pass quickly,
  and with the same mercy that I show to these ants.
    
If I can even call it mercy.
 
Can I, Puno?

Do ants feel pain?

I am a monster.

Though I could be God.

Surely I am better than an ant.

Where are you now, Puno?

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I chew nervous vitamins and wait for you to get home.

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First written in late 2018. Completed in 2023.

Joel

Puno

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