.
maybe something more than that
something sacred
something where I want to be.
something stained glass and glowing midafternoon
that not-quite-springtime-I’m-still-waiting
improvising prayers aloud.
There’s something Biblical in all of this
(remembering John 3:16 and bare backs
bearing mud-crosses, that purposeful
dishevelment. I might have wanted
that morning-after-look the night before.)
something mystical and miracle-seeking
lost on long car-rides, out the window
caught like hair.
so much for
any-next-this
time
this pause. a thought to consider.
With all its vicious history, at least this month’s weather has been nice.
My fear of death phone calls dwindles everyday; I fear more the leaving
the silent summer aspect
the perfect skin-mold teeth
(a wound to be proud of)
and meanwhile all they can say:
just bite harder.
.
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Comments
--
Your musky lips, cramping smoke into halos,
love to finger obscenities and slander. I am a bitch now.
Don’t touch her now, this thing of waste. She’s
Empty. She’s full of spite.
--
Your musky lips, cramping smoke into halos,
love to finger obscenities and slander. I am a bitch now.
Don’t touch her now, this thing of waste. She’s
Empty. She’s full of spite.
I'm also unsure about the words all by their lonesome in the middle of the poem. They seem very naked out there on their own.
I love the repetition of something, and all the bareness & mud. I'm a little wary of you saying John 3:16, but only because the crazy poets here at work are constantly quoting (and mis-quoting) verses and it's starting to drive me nuts.
Love you!
--
do your part. love your mother.
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but shall have eternal life." Given a little leniency for translations and such. It's a big one. It was painted on me along with the henna cross. *grin* My evening of blasphemy.
I agree about the lonely words. It's something I need to fix. I'm not going to make the November 1st our personal deadline - too much work with teaching this week and weeks to come. But I'm trying. When I get a chance, at least, I'm trying.
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