Road to Rhododendrons

there is a road to take when we laugh
drunk at things we
never thought were funny before
the mind scours too much land
there are
questions to ask that are
only answered
when you peer into the ear canal of earth
to try to see its brain

rhododendrons are these vulnerable little
life forms—
if I were to cut
off my hand and have it write a poem
without my help it would write the next
Ragnarok
like if I was a tiny insect
close to the Pacific Coast and crept
through a dank rustic tunnel
I would see bright
mauve fields fooling all the cousins of sweets

I would hear dirt cackling under my nail beds
and feel them skinning their closets of comfort

I am a native to nowhere
my mother an ocean
with no shore

my father a road with no builder
and sunken into a face of muddy slush
this rhododendron bud drunk under the weight
of the Suns rays which cannot even be seen
or remembered

Artwork courtesy of Youssef ElNahas