Mortal Beauty

Angel with a bright red suitcase came to the door
We walked the streets of Catskill
We walked alleys and ice cream parlors
I saw my future in a jar so I dashed it to the floor
I saw small pieces of wood ground into the dirt
The walls throbbed from the roots up and asked, “Are you the one who made the angel?”
The angel with the bright red suitcase never complained about the beauty of mortals
One day the angel opened the suitcase
The suitcase contained the seeds of all living things
Puppies and babies, fruits and nuts, and seeds as small as dots of dust
When the angel opened the suitcase the seeds of all living things burst out like a brood of cicadas
With only days to live