I collect a lot of candy wrappers when I’m picking up trash. I did a few more paintings of them, which I’ll post once scanned. I started thinking about them as artifacts of desire, and wrote a poem about that, which Facebook swallowed into its maw and I lost. Here it is, maybe changed by my memory. It’s a very Buddhist view of desire as being the root of dissatisfaction and suffering, but it also is the root of exploration and discovery.
Almond! it promised, and Joy, it called.
With a chocolate sigh, as the torn foil falls,
we melt in the sun,
The restless echo of an ancient tide
that willed cold fins
onto cruel sands
to dry, with the template for sea.
There is a price to be paid at all dark entrances, a ticket to be bought from the carnival man. The child shivers and steps off the tame streets.
Treasure must be gilded with danger: somewhere in the weeds, wrecks and pails is a scrap of sunhazed glass to be pocketed with its due scrap of reverence.
In the deep shade there’s a place to stay hidden, building tunnels and houses in the damp earth, safe as beetles.
Where the earth smell sickens in the farthest corner, shapes seethe on a dead mouse. Pocketing his coin, the carnival man laughs.
Suddenly it’s time to be found, to race long shadows between wires and cold walls, breaking through the last ragged hedge into light and the smell of home, ovens and floured hands.
A small journey is all journeys.