Tomaž Šalamun Is A Monster
for the Maestro
Tomaž Šalamun ate Jeffrey Dahmer in his dreams
and rode side-car in Iowa with Larry Levis and Thom Gunn.
He married Marushka inside a bottle of milk.
He taught the unteachable
by exposing himself inside a sandwich.
He French-kissed Warhol’s Mona Lisa
while stealing her moustache for an implant.
His father was an hermaphrodite from the bottom of the Karst,
and his mother, Uncle Sam.
He ate ashes from the debris
of the World Trade Center
and shat them in the forests of Slovenia.
He laughed too much and smiled at babies.
Brandishing a tangled handful of desire,
he paraded along the Ganges in a sari.
Tomaž Šalamun sports a black necktie in his grave.
Tomaž Šalamun’s shadow swims
through the mirrors of Ljubljana.
How could one miss this omniscient magician
when he’s everywhere under our boot-soles.
Send his spirit to the Kitchen for chipotle and flamenco.
A toast of white wine to his glittering eyeglasses!
but don’t give him band-aids, don’t pray for him.
Tomaž Šalamun is already a constellation.
He’s riding the back of a dolphin in Heaven.
— Kerry Shawn Keys