Poem: Thai Demon

Thai Demon
–John Isbell

The Thai demon on my bookshelf
Is engaged in the project
Of for­get­ting as much as it can.
This is a labo­ri­ous and piece­meal process:
Cen­turies of activ­i­ty in Thailand
Seem less rel­e­vant now
To an unhonored lump of wood, but there is also
Its new life here; for instance,
It has ingest­ed all my library,
From Xenophon to Kaf­ka. Pages of Ger­man go.
As the rush of mem­o­ry clears,
The demon becomes aware
Of small­er things: the pre­cise qual­i­ty of the light
At 5:22 p.m. 8 years ago;
The sound of my breath­ing as I fetched a book;
The demon’s mood as it dined in 1437.
Its mind is like a con­cert hall as the audi­ence settles.
Now, after years,
The demon is for­get­ting its times table.
Next will be lan­guage and the use of its limbs,
And breath­ing. It will be a block of wood.
It will be free of the block and the cycle of samsara.

Cyn is a proud Mommy & Mémé, professional geek, avid reader, fledgling coder, enthusiastic gamer (TTRPGs), occasional singer, and devoted stitcher.
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