Tell us your whereabouts when the blue macaw went
extinct? The white rhino? Is capitalism working, yes or no?
Is heaven a podcast of lies? Does sky-gazing make you
an accessory to existence? Name your accomplice, fear
or laughter? Explain the Big Bang to us one more time.
Give it to us straight. Is a nest of bees a papier-mâché
cathedral? Is a hurricane an engine of rage? Do words
like crocus, spiderweb, chlorophyl mean anything to you?
Why are you fidgeting? We can place you at the scene
of your birth. What body lies atop this pyre of drafts?
If the murder weapon was a flaming sword, does that
make you an angel or a serial killer? We have proof
God is a photo on a bulletin board’s most wanted list.
Why did you burn the dictionaries? We need you
to cooperate if we are going to take down yesterday
and tomorrow. The moment is in witness protection.
Let me ask you, how well do you know your shadow?
Would you be willing to wear a wire? We need to get
the full moon on tape. You are looking at a lifetime
of washing dishes and second-guessing your career.
The facts are building a case for scars, more nudity,
and angry swans. Look, we recovered the ransom
of grey clouds and parking lots! The mugshots in
your dreams are damning. The easy way is rain on
a Spring morning. The hard way is a fist hammering
piano keys. Listen to the crickets and take the deal.
Chris Banks
Chris Banks is a Canadian poet and author of five collections of poems. His first full-length collection, Bonfires, was awarded the Jack Chalmers Award for poetry by the Canadian Authors' Association in 2004.