For Barbara Smith’s
70th Birthday
by Frank Moore
Friday, June 29, 2001
It is too late
For THEM to defeat us.
We have made it to the gravy years!
We have lived rich lives,
Within a deep web of
Tribal community relationships,
Deep into shamanistic rituals
Playing,
Surrendering
To the magic
Without limits
Sitting on the mat
In the universal room of hidden imagination,
Feeding
Every body who comes in
A magical feast of contact connecting flesh rituals,
Growing, working the garden together
Walking together
Within small circles of evolution,
Of risks,
Dangers,
Trust,
Deep pleasures!
Yes, my fellow playmate,
They have failed
To take the riches of living
Away from us.
Sure…
They raped us
Tortured us
Pretended we were just feeble-minded silly foam
But we have transformed
All that into our web
Of change
Damn!
Ain’t that what life,
Art,
Magic
Is all about anyway?
And now it’s too late for them!
They can kill us,
Put us in prison,
Take everything/everybody from us,
Erase us from memory,
But we would still have our life,
Our changes,
Our melting
Into the universal tribal body
Their only hope
Is us taking our lives back
By doubting,
By stopping playing,
Touching,
Enjoying
But fat chance!
We are having too much fun!
Ah yes,
My dear,
We are in the GRAVY YEARS!
And the gravy
Is rich,
Hot,
And spicy…
Just right
To be poured
Over winter squash!
From the book Skin Passion by Frank Moore.