out of the pit of this enmity
let us take the spittle that has flown
let us wipe the phlegm from each other’s face
and collect the scrapings
that roll from cheeks
let us find a bowl or ewer
and mix them there
let us then kiss one more time
soft and careful
eyes open for the intended meaning
let us make tongues intentional
roll like sea-cucumbers
moved by slow tides’ change
then spit in the bowl
and mix that too
let us then say the words
that mean forgiveness
without the word forgiveness said
and hope that in life’s fermentation
spit, mixed, does engender wisdom
as our ancestors believed
and if it does, let our dwarf nature
not kill it out of jealousy
as their stories tell us they did
but if wisdom fails us
may it bring us then at least
poetry’s healing.
1999