A Question About Religion.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

to pass the time
we talk, i have nowhere to go
this self is not taking me
anywhere
i am not well dressed
i am a shadow of my mind
it is my mind that
is becoming my own body
my body is but
an afterthought
of a flash,
you do not talk much
you are surprised
you doubt about what is happening to me
i cannot explain
you do not want me to explain
it is obvious
each part of me is disappearing
my ears are dissolving in air
i have become smaller
when you stare at me
perhaps this is what happens
when shame
makes a decision
i do not feel any roundness of this earth
the space has become
another meaningless
edge of my
existence

i want to explain it now that
you start to speak
'what the hell is happening to you? '
you ask
feeling the roughness of my hair
'this cannot be true'

i nod my head and shrink
like some ice on the floor
and then
as you cannot see me anymore
you left
this refusal to believe
that things like these can happen to someone like me


i use to ask ' Was i God? '
it is this blasphemy that
meted the penalty

'Issa, Issa, are you preaching now
that it was not really what you intended? '

it is not too late yet,
it was the fake one
that spy that
was hanged
and died.

Lina, please leave the documents
on my table.
I cannot yet
find myself
just like the way you have not
forgiven yourself
once victim, now
the offender