No miracle’s ever touched him,
no angel’s whispered in his ears
inside a well-intentioned cliche,
no knock at 5 a.m.
has ever made him doubt his doubt,
the architecture of his logic,
the beauty of his ways.
Out on the porch tonight he stands
alone against the Pharisees,
the Romans, and the stars.
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Under swooning clouds
of a puddle after rain.And, as if in a dream,you see yourself reflectedin the wavelets, windblowing locks of hairas you reach down, though pinnedyourself against the bottom,which is heaven or hell,depending on your pointof view, or just a well.
Above the reeds the red clouds gather.
reflect the blood, half full of water.If only we knew whom to thank.We look up at the darkening sky,sun as if sinking, moon aflame,the figurative language a lie,and know for sure life is to blame.
The winos on the benches, in between
as Saint Francis of Bryant Park. It washe who fed pigeons, from compassion orcompulsion? Alternating current had,no doubt, already touched his brilliant mind.The father of the wireless connection,he’d reach into his bag, half-idiot,half-genius, whispering in tender coos.Having towered over both Marconiand Edison, he’d toss the creatures crumbsas part of some hermetic ritual.Then he’d hightail it…
There’s hard-wrought solitude:
alone, not lonely. Earattuned to music, foodinside the belly, fine—knowing dream is betterthan a lost love letter,old teats scrawled with a tine.
For five days the blowflies have cleansed their bones.
for holy water, afterlives beyond Ukraine,sure heaven neither judges nor atones?Atop tarn uniforms, their sun-bleached skullsresemble cauliflowers amid rapeseed,fodder for architects and lords of greedwho build Earth’s fences and tear down Earth’s walls.No second coming for these meek and poor,no Christ to lean on, anti-christ to blame—they mistake fuse for wick and pray to flamewe’re…
Their smoke obstructed the October sun
One time we went behind the backyard shedto see who freed them, kites into our skies.Some still aflame, some charred, some brownish dun,they rose into a heaven made of lead.