by taxi to St. Bart's

a found poem

Swami Bua is a hundred and seventeen
He can blow a conch for eight straight days
One note
One breath
[One] hundred and ninety four hours

His apartment is the one
With the sign on the door that reads:
To Ring Well
Please Press Well
The Bottom Bell

His face brings to mind
The knob on an old walking stick
And an ancient Yosemite Sam

(The guest was
To take the Swami to St. Bart’s
Where he was to issue the call to prayer
By blowing on his conch)

In the taxi he began to tell
Unintelligible stories
About wrestling Ethiopian Sheep

[The driver] was Haitian
Listening to Christian radio

As the Jesus talk gave way
To a brass processional
The Swami produce[d] the conch
It was tipped with silver at both ends

He began to blow.

The sound of the conch
Joined the brass
And the sirens in the street

The driver spun around, beaming

When the ride was over
He said to the Swami:
We will meet again

Found in « Swami » by Nick Paumgarten in this week's New Yorker Magazine.