the valley below

bringing flowers in the grey of morning
we walk from the village to the graveyard
to pray and listen for our hidden father

the unmarked kijing crowd uneven paths
the buckled beds are bristling with grass
and creeping weeds and blossoming shrubbery

and overseen by shaggy jepun trees
their twisted bodies cross at knotted joints
their mask of all the seasons all at once

damp after rain the mud sticks to my feet
and sandals i rinse off before we leave
so other ghosts unclaimed wont follow me


//

Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)

for those (lovers / erastes) praise
aside from whats best
the things said
and the things done

// 233α

ἐκεῖνοι μὲν γὰρ καὶ παρὰ τὸ βέλτιστον τά τε λεγόμενα καὶ τὰ πραττόμενα ἐπαινοῦσιν

//

tonight is an engagement ceremony
its one more meeting of families to go
before tomorrow we return to Bali

and one more time with the toilet jongkok
splashing water up from underneath
with the gayung from the bak mandi

while listening to the two goats bleat
kept there by the neighbors
who live out back

//