From Moksha Smith: Agni's Warrior-Sage
by Antonio de Nicolas
The full moon marked the paths of gravel and grass in the cemetery as I came upon this mysterious light,
it sat with green light on the high edge of a tombstone shaped like the shadow of a Bonsai tree, it throbbed softly in the breeze like the throat of a frog, it had a low voice, it croaked:
" I am the last thought of a critical theorist who died young enough to know he was all wrong. But,I, his thought, was so right I could not die with the last spasm of his heart. I need to be dissolved!"
"And how may I help?"
" Read me a poem, then swat me like a fly!"
I did as asked, the light dissolved without a stain of gut.
The moon lay over the vacant spot, the dead were at last dead with no memory left.
Pity, he was the only celebrity this town ever had!

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