Kharola Pass
Prayer flags snap in a cutting wind
above, a glacier clamping the mountain
at a merchant cart of decorated yak skulls
a boy of six, cheeks chapped by altitude
a hanging gob of snot, no parka.
Our Jeep ignites a flame in his eyes
its promise of money, food
he grabs my sleeve
points finger to mouth
wolfs cookies, staring up
my heart thumping
his booger rattling
and I tissue it off
before he skips away.
The gleaming yak skulls leer
as Himalayan winds whistle
over the lunar landscape;
not a tree or a mother in sight.
Eating the Dead
If it’s not vultures
summoned by shamans
to tear the meat
atop Tibetan hills
or Aghori Sadhus
(those lovable kooks)
trawling the Ganges
for blue-bloated floaters
then it’s us, our various
holy Books, blood-spattered
breaded bodies of Christ.
By God, it’s Keith Richards
snorting our father’s ashes
off a picnic table, Amen.
About Lauren Tivey:
Lauren Tivey has been living in China for the past two years, where she works as an English Literature teacher in the American Program at a Chinese high school. She received a MFA in poetry from Vermont College of Fine Arts, and her work has appeared in Deuce Coupe,The Literary Burlesque, and Gutter Eloquence, among other publications. Her chapbook, The Breakdown Atlas, is due out in July of 2011 from Big Table Publishing Co. She lives for poetry, photography, travel, and adventure.
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