More poppin’ fresh biscuits for the rinpoche? How warm, at an early hour awakening to throat-singing dogs trained by Robin Hood; no, that’s an ex-pilot waiting out a humility lesson with a studio fret man. Around the compound skulls park on wood, self-contained camping units gearing up for eternity outdoors. Some thrash when the equipment doesn’t fit the space available. Well, I’m glad you asked me that—enlightenment does not involve alternating current. The Rake of God leans against the wall, smoking: soon enough gravel requires discipline, and as the egg of sun cracks, Duke Ellington appears in air and leads everyone in calisthenics. Outside the gate, like shadows prodigals perform a limbo, loosening up for the concert and barbecue at which they must sing for the chance to be offered new worlds to ignore.

—Republished with author’s permission from The Rubaiyat of Hazmat (BlazeVOX, 2004)

Ed Taylor

is the author of three books: Theo (a novel; Old Street Publishing, 2014), Idiogest (a poetry collection; BlazeVOX, 2010), and The Rubaiyat of Hazmat (a chapbook; BlazeVOX, 2004). His fiction and poetry have appeared in a variety of U.S. and U.K. periodicals and anthologies, including Exquisite Corpse, Fiction International, Gargoyle, Great Lakes Review, New World Writing, River Styx, Serving House Journal, Southwest Review, and others. He lives in Buffalo, New York.