What Became of It?

At the top of the pyramid he sits on a golden throne he does not even glance at the bottom of the pyramid. I am at the bottom, under the heavy base of the pyramid due to give birth, in my womb Pharaoh’s slave of the soil is stirring. The leather straps of the plow have left calluses on my back. Holy calluses! Badge of service! Badge of dying on the path of holiness! Badge of feeling happy! At the top of the pyramid, on his golden throne, he was here, on my shoulder. Where, where? That pyramid? That Pharaoh? That strap? That slave? That slave of pure happiness who kept repeating in me?... After the Rain Nest The Coming Season Survival of the Fittest Upside Down Beginning