from Moths

2

The Foe is said to have assumed the form of a moth during his siege on St. Sebastian of Westminster. That, whenever the Saint attempted to speak the Lord's name, a legion of small brown moths would issue from his mouth, their dusty wings pressing against his lips.

In a desire to emulate the Saint there were Holy Men who would knot their tongues into the almost name of God. Who would make a mixture of light and saliva, a gleam along the tongue here and there, imitating the flicker of a candle. With this working of light they would entice moths into the night of their black mouths. And the moths would be crushed by the rolling tongues into a mixture of paste and sand, folded and incorporated into the Holy Name.




8

Athanasius Kircher, in the 15th century, wrote of the fire that will clean us of our sin. He tells us that the fire will be so great that there will be no place for the ashes to fall and no place for the smoke to fill.

That the Lord in his wisdom has given those ashes wings so that we will, even if only in fear, keep the covenant.

He tells us the ashes are even now falling

are drifting back and fluttering downward.

He tells us that they are attracted to flames from which they came.




9

Two bell jars. One much smaller placed beneath one much larger. A light bulb is placed in the smaller one. A moth in the larger.

They fruitlessly will exhibit the gravity of desire. And thus the weight of bodies.












Michael Stewart is an MFA student at Brown. He has forthcoming publications in Marginalia and American Letters and Commentary.







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