Monthly Archives: September 2012

Against the Tongue

Against the Tongue

The year I spent
a summer locked away,
shades drawn and lights dimmed,

I saw more in shadows,
headlights across the walls,
unanswered door-knockings. Always,

“What did they want?”
Band candy, surveys, ministry,
something more sinister?

Left unknown
in this house. My father said,
we wait for the answering machine.

No answers
in the horoscope, tea leaves, cards
today. My knees ache

from all this falling,
eyes closed. Mouth open–
come into me, O savior,

for this, at least, is connection.



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Showers Likely

Dry corner of a gazebo leaking
in the rain, naturally
seeking patterns, meaning

in fingertaps on canvas roof.
Almost apophenic.
Give me a sign, I asked
a year ago, morning
shower. Sunbeam through the window,

then the water
before my eyes,
then the rainbow, inches away,
untouchably far.
“We need space.”

Right up there with
“It’s not you,
it’s me.” “We’ll still be

friends.” Seeking patterns
in chaos, sense and antisense.
In our DNA, perhaps. Prisms,
covenants, tricks of the scattered
light, or not. Still, no one gets out totally dry.


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If Not Faith, Then by the Sword

If Not Faith, Then by the Sword

Sister, this is our solstice–
Sol, for sun,
Sistere, to stand still…and you do
when you proclaim the planet
six thousand years old.

Ignore Gobekli Tepe,
buried beneath twelve thousand
years of sand. Jesus rode dinosaurs,
you betcha!

He comes soon, yea,
but until then
you save your yays
for wealthy white men,
jingoism, sunday bingo.

Let us read from the book
of Bluegrassians,
chapter ten, verse fourteen:

What is mine is mine,
O Holy Checkbook, and
What is thine
Is mine to get.


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