by A.J. Kaufmann

We can’t help the dead elephants alley gates
can’t solve the mystery of their
can’t even step closer
to their wedding
where dice are of ivory cheek tears
collected as precious milk babies
while incense draws salvation
around crushed naked foreheads

Look how they gather, these mighty phantoms
if people were so majestic

Ah, but we prefer solitaire
in our dying
hosanna honey pots
choosing wrong wombs
of delivery

How can we balance the elephant’s weight
with a single
butterfly breath of soul palace?
that’s all the weaponry at hand
such fragile canvas
of our fragmented genius
feather weighted arms of possession

We are Siva in ruin
temples in collision
skulls of smog policemen

How can we stand against
their red lights of channeling
with our tiny white neons of alpha connective
experiences laughable
and force our pale reminders
to live again
as burial’s swirling reflections

We are all Siva in rags
we are all Siva
we are all
we are
there is no one inside but the wind

* * *

A.J. Kaufmann  is a young Polish poet, songwriter and traveler, the author of Siva in Rags, Pilgrims & Indians, Broke Nuptial Minds, Saint of Kreuzberg and other poetry / song lyrics chapbooks. You can visit him online at or at

Insane in Rome (2008) and Saint of Kreuzberg (2010):

Vagabond Vacancy (2010):

Pilgrims & Indians (2008):