A long journey of loving
Gather and Fizz, Fizz
A response to the poem "Kamikaze, That Divine Wind"
Oil on canvas
81 x 12”
That Divine Wind
by Maj Ragain
My mother is dissolving like an Alka-Seltzer
in the warm waters of this Indian Summer,
the white crown of her head
unraveling hair by hair,
flung outward toward the Crab nebula, the fiery
burrow from which we came.
The carbon in these chains that
bind flesh to spirit was
born in that hot galactic heart
that could no longer contain itself.
The big fizz is still expanding.
My mother’s life is now a small bang, a hushed
dissolution, what the white coats have named
anxiety attacks, her little apartment abuzz
with swarms of tiny Kamikaze planes, the pilots
drunk on sake and crazed devotion, diving at
her little boat paddling the burning oil slick.
I can’t see them. She can. I know they are there.
The glass jar shatters on the sidewalk.
The fire flies mill about, then gather toward home.